The Blackest White
by inzane73
Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to “The Friggin' Cure.”
1. Prologue

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: Yes! At long last! It is the sequel to "The Friggin' Cure!" (And you thought it would never happen.)

While this story is indeed a sequel, it is technically 4th in the series. The other stories in what I guess I will now refer to as "The Cure" series are, in chronological order, "The Book of Max," "The Friggin' Cure," and "Boys Will Be Boys." It would make sense to read "The Friggin' Cure" before you begin this story, obviously. Reading the other two stories is not necessary (though it is very much appreciated); however, a few characters and concepts that were introduced in the other stories will be referenced.

This story will contain language, violence, mild adult situations, angst, and extreme whumpage of various characters. Consider yourself warned.

* * *

Prologue:

It was snowing.

Alec sat on the ledge of the roof--Max's high place--in the same spot where Max always sat. His legs hung over the edge, bent so that his booted feet pressed flat against the side of the building. He sat there, unmoving, with his head bowed and his back hunched, as if the weight of the snow frosting his hair and shoulders was too much for him.

For once, Terminal City was beautiful. The soft coating of white hid the city's imperfections, transforming its toxic, rundown facade to something pure and innocent. For once, it truly looked like a home instead of a prison.

The snow floated down from the sky in large, fluffy flakes, the rarity of the snowfall making it all the more beautiful. But he didn't see it, didn't feel it. He didn't care.

His red-rimmed eyes refused to focus on the gathering below. He knew who would be there--Joshua, Mole, Dalton, Zev… pretty much the entire transgenic nation, standing alongside Original Cindy, Sketchy, some other friends from their Jam Pony days. Maybe even Normal. All of them, come together for one purpose.

They'd wanted him down there with them, begged him to be there, but he couldn't. He didn't want to be there. More than that, he didn't _need_ to be there. He'd said his peace, and now he was done with it. With _them_.

He concentrated on the soft hush of the falling snow, but words kept floating up from below, unbidden.

… _best friend a girl could have… _

He could have childishly plugged his ears and hummed a little tune to block out the sound, but that wouldn't have stopped what he knew was happening down there. Instead, he let his eyes come into focus, shifting his gaze until he stared down at his own, tightly closed fist.

He slowly opened his hand, cold tendons that had remained too long in one position resisting the motion. The ache in his chest flared into a sharp, stabbing pain as he looked down at what rest in the palm of his hand.

Rings. Two of them.

The small, smooth circlets somehow still managed to shine in the washed-out light, white gold picking up tiny reflections of falling snowflakes.

He'd bought the rings during his trip to DC--one for him, one for Max. It hadn't been an impulse; he'd been thinking about it for a while. And he hadn't stolen them. That seemed wrong, somehow. He'd spent two hours in a jewelry store, obsessively pouring over his choices and scaring the hell out of the store's owner, what with his military escort and all. When he'd finally found exactly what he'd wanted, he'd plunked down a wad of cash that quickly had the owner changing his tune. He'd left the store three hours after he'd entered it, with a velvet pouch in his pocket and a crushing case of anxiety.

_... really cared about us… all of us, no matter what we looked like…_

Max was it for him. His forever.

He'd known it for a long time, now. Probably since the first time he had kissed her. He'd wanted her to know it, too, so he'd bought the rings. Something that would stand as a symbol for everything he felt. Something physical to hold on to, even when they were apart.

… _more than anyone, she saw what we could be, together …_

He didn't need a ceremony or some piece of paper. He didn't need a government stamp of approval to recognize the union between them. All he needed was her, and this one, simple symbol.

The sound of a child's sob broke through his feeble wall of resistance. Even though he didn't want to, he found his bloodshot eyes shifting, focusing on the scene below.

The wood was stacked waist high, easily scavenged from some of TC's more dilapidated buildings. He caught a whiff of the gasoline that had been used to soak it. They had to be sure that the fire burned long and hot, so that there would be nothing left of the body that had been placed on the bier, lovingly wrapped in a shroud hand-painted by Joshua.

They always burned their dead. That way, no one could ever dig them up and pick their bones clean in the name of science.

… _Goodbye, Max. You will be missed…_

An inhuman howl erupted from Joshua's throat as Mole flicked a match into the soaked wood, turning the pile into a column of fire.

Alec closed his eyes tight, hand clenching into a fist over two white-gold rings.

* * *

A/N: How's that for a cliffhanger?


	2. Ch 1: Comings and Goings

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: Thank you so much for the (_ahem_) very energetic responses to the prologue. I didn't think such a small chapter could elicit such passionate response! I promise that you will find out what happened to Max… eventually.

And now, we go back…

Warning: Language and mild adult situations.

* * *

Chapter 1: Comings and Goings

_23 Days Ago_

"Hey, Max! … Max? … Could you hold up a sec… … Max!"

Desperately wishing that he was somewhere else, Luke shadowed Terminal City's CO as she made her way through the center of Command. The last place in the world the transhuman wanted to be was trailing in the wake of Hurricane Max, but he'd lost a lighting round of Rock-Paper-Scissors with Lee, so he was the one stuck dealing with their leader.

Luke was trying to get her attention before she made it out of the building, but he wasn't doing a very good job of it. She was either ignoring him or too distracted to notice him. This would've been a good thing, if he hadn't needed her approval on the stupid forms for the stupid bureaucratic pencil pushers the stupid government kept pushing on them.

She'd blown by him on the way out of her office, silently steaming toward the door with single-minded purpose. She'd looked pissed, which wasn't really all that unusual for Max, especially lately, but the fact that she was quiet _was_. Max was usually pretty vocal when she was pissed. Quietly pissed Max was disturbing.

On second thought, maybe the forms could wait.

He was about to turn and hightail it out of there when Max stopped suddenly, causing him to skid to a halt to avoid crashing into her. She spun around and barked, "Goddammit, _what?!_" before he could even process what had happened.

Luke stood there, blinking. He completely forgot what he was going to say.

Max waited with obvious impatience for Luke to say something. All she wanted was a couple hours to herself, maybe a little fresh air to clear her head, but it had been one thing after another all day long. It was like the whole population of TC was conspiring against her. "Do I look like I have all day?" she asked, each word sharp and biting.

Luke shook his head, hoping to kickstart his brain into action. "I uh…" He lifted the papers in his hand, reminded of his cause. "Sorry, but I need your signoffs on the requisition forms for the supplies the government was going to…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, it couldn't wait?" Max interrupted angrily. "I'm off shift. _OFF SHIFT,_ dammit. Don't you people get the concept of personal fucking time?"

Luke felt an instinctual urge to cringe but managed to stand his ground. "They were supposed to be in two days ago."

"Then why didn't you give them to me two days ago?" Max snapped, snatching the pages from Luke's hands and immediately rifling through them.

"I _did_," Luke insisted, frowning as he absently rubbed his hand where the papers had cut him. "Lee found them in the conference room this morning after the meeting. You must've forgotten them."

"That's ridiculous. I wouldn't…" Max began, then trailed off as she took a closer look at the papers. Luke could tell that she recognized them, because her face went through various shades of red, starting with what looked like embarrassment and ending in anger. She turned around and slammed the papers down on the nearest flat surface, which happened to be the surveillance station. Lee, the X4 manning the station who had--having won the game of Rock-Paper-Scissors--thought he was safe from Max's fury, jumped.

Max grabbed a pen from a chipped coffee mug then practically stabbed it into the paper as she went to sign her name. She made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat as the pen refused to write. She threw the pen down and grabbed another, with the same results.

"Is it too much to ask for a pen that fucking works around here?" Max yelled, tossing the second pen down with enough force that it skittered across the desk to the floor.

It wasn't just everyone in TC--fate itself was conspiring against her. She snatched the papers off of the desk and surged toward her office. Everyone wisely got out of her way.

"When do you think you'll be umm… done with them?" Luke called out hesitantly, afraid to ask the question but knowing that Colonel Flanagan would be pissed if he didn't have the forms faxed within the hour. Terminal City couldn't afford to lose those supplies.

Without turning or stopping, Max snapped, "They'll be ready when they're ready." She slammed the door of her office so hard that the walls rattled.

Luke frowned at the closed door. "What's up with her lately?" he asked, addressing the question to Mole and Dix, who were at nearby table going over schematics of the sewer tunnels.

Mole looked up for a second at Max's closed door, then looked back down at the schematics. "She's a bitch," he said dismissively, as if that were the answer to everything when it came to Max. Dix let out a snort of laughter.

"Well, yeah, but…" Luke began, but his words trailed off as he tried to figure out a nicer way to put it. He gave up. "…it's like _more_ than usual," he finished.

Dix straightened and stretched his stiff neck. He must've been bent over those schematics longer than he thought. "'Member how she was before her and Alec got together?" he said. "He's been gone… what, now? Two weeks?"

"I don't know…" Luke replied, doubtful.

"Luke, my friend," Mole chimed in, leaning over further to rest his forearms on the table, "_this_ is what happens to our fearless leader when she hasn't gotten any in a couple of days. Once Prince Charming gets back, things'll get back to normal, and she'll be back to the everyday level of bitch she usually is."

"I heard that!" Maxed yelled through the thin walls of her office.

Mole chomped on his cigar and smiled. Sometimes, it was too easy.

* * *

Max sat on the ledge of the roof of the highest building in TC, looking out over the city that had--through a series of events that she still sometimes found hard to believe--fallen under her charge.

It wasn't a pretty sight. The heavily overcast sky painted everything over in a grayish pall, adding to the already depressed look of the toxic city. She couldn't remember the last time she saw the sun.

You had to love Seattle.

She was dressed for the cold, with a thick, cable knit sweater over a thermal shirt. She'd added a scarf, fingerless gloves, and a knit hat, which she had pulled snugly down over her ears. Winter was going to be harsh this year; you could feel it in your bones. She'd have to think about arranging another run for warm clothing and blankets. The stuff the government supplied them wouldn't be enough.

She sat with a frown on her face and her chin resting on one bent knee; her other leg dangled off the edge of the building, swaying in time to some internal clock. She sat in the same spot she always sat when she had some serious thinking to do.

Right before he'd left, Alec had joked that she sat in the same spot so often, without so much as an inch variance on either side, that he was pretty sure she was beginning to wear a groove on the ledge in the shape of her ass. She hadn't really thought it was funny. In fact, it had kind of pissed her off. Just where did he get off calling her predictable, anyway? The jerk. Just because a girl happened to like a particular spot…

She knew what she liked, that's all. There was nothing wrong with it.

Besides, Alec wasn't there to say anything about it, was he? So it didn't matter that she was sitting in exactly the same spot she always sat. Not that things would've been different, had he been there. She would park herself wherever the hell she wanted, and if he didn't like it, he could go and kiss her predictable ass. Assuming she ever let him see it again.

Okay, where had _that_ come from?

A frustrated growl escaped from Max's throat, and she thunked her forehead hard against her knee to try to dislodge the sudden anger swirling inside. One minute, she was thinking about the weather, and the next, she was booting Alec out of their bed. It didn't make any sense.

It had been a harmless little joke--tame by Alec's standards--and he probably hadn't meant anything by it. But she could barely control the feelings churning inside of her--feelings that were completely out of line, considering the situation.

And that was the big problem, wasn't it? Too many things were out of line with her, lately. Her emotions were all over the place, and it seemed like the slightest thing could set her off. She'd practically bitten Luke's head off earlier today, and he'd only been doing his job.

Maybe it was the weather. She could almost feel the thick gray clouds pressing down on her, giving her a vague sense of claustrophobia. And she half remembered Vash saying something about lack of sunlight having an affect on your mood--some medical mumbo jumbo about vitamin absorption and affective disorders, or something like that. Not that she was depressed or anything. She was just… terminally pissed off for some reason.

It had nothing to do with the fact that Alec had been gone for thirteen days, four hours, and thirty-seven minutes.

Max glanced down at her watch.

Thirty-eight minutes.

She could've stopped him from going… or tried to, anyway. She hadn't bothered, because, aside from the fact that Alec probably would've resented the interference, she knew she would've been outvoted.

They needed an emissary, someone to convince the government that transgencis had the right to live and be free just as much as anyone else. Alec was the natural candidate for the job. He was attractive, charming, funny… even eloquent, when he wanted to be. It was hard not to like him. She should know. She'd resisted for over a year.

So she'd kept her mouth shut when the council proposed that Alec handle the diplomatic mission to Washington, DC. It had shocked the hell out of Alec; he'd clearly expected her to put up a fight.

See? Totally not predictable.

Of course, her unpredictable non-protest meant that her man was now all the way across the country, where she couldn't keep an eye on him. What if he got into trouble? How the hell was she supposed to save his ass if he was in a different time zone? Sure, he had Dalton with him, as well as the two Xs and two transhumans that had been assigned to protect him, but it wasn't the same. How could she be sure that they would do whatever it took to keep him safe? They didn't care about Alec like she did… okay, well, maybe Dalton came close, but he was just a kid.

By all accounts, the government suits were keeping Alec busy--meetings, dinner parties, even a presidential gala. He was probably too busy to get into trouble.

That didn't change the fact that he was a couple thousand miles away, and she was alone.

She knew what everyone was saying. Why everyone was avoiding her. Mole's off-color comment earlier that day hadn't been the first. She'd heard them talking about her…about how she'd been acting. The talk always seemed to shift from her to _them_--Max and Alec, until it seemed as if the words had blurred together into one. One _person_, instead of two.

Sometimes, she was scared that she was losing herself. Losing _Max_ to _MaxnAlec_.

"Lots of clouds."

Max's head shot up and turned at the sound of Joshua's voice. He was standing behind her and to the right, gazing at the dreary sky above. She hadn't heard him coming. She'd been so wrapped up in her stupid mental issues that she hadn't heard a seven foot dog man approaching.

It was completely unacceptable, not to mention foolish. Their lives were still too dangerous to let something like a bad mood become a distraction. If she wasn't careful, she was gonna end up getting herself killed.

Joshua shivered, smiling at the sensation. "Will be snow."

"It doesn't snow in Seattle," Max replied, then winced at her tone, which sounded like a bad mixture of irritation and condescension. She just couldn't seem to shake whatever the hell it was that was bugging her.

Joshua didn't take offense. He rarely did. "Will this time."

The big transhuman didn't need to look at Max to know that something was bothering her. He could hear it in her voice, see it in the way she held herself. "Want to talk about it?" he asked softly, knowing her well enough to know that he should tread lightly.

"No," Max replied snappishly, turning her face away from him. She stewed silently, waiting for her gentle friend to say something, but he didn't push. He wouldn't. Joshua would stand there all day waiting for her to say something, if he thought she needed him to. "_Yes_," Max sighed, giving in.

Joshua nodded, then climbed up onto the ledge and sat down beside her. He clasped his hands in front of him and waited expectantly for her to begin. _The doctor is in_, Max thought, knowing that it wasn't far from the truth. Joshua seemed to have an uncanny ability to whittle even the most complex problems down to their simplest common denominator. Somewhere along the line, he'd become TC's unofficial resident therapist.

"I know I've been a little… bitchy," Max began. She gave him a sidelong glance. "Okay, _a lot_ bitchy. I don't know what's up with me, Josh. I mean, I practically bit Luke's head off earlier for no good reason. Other people have noticed it, too; I swear they're starting to walk the other way when they see me coming. Hell, even Original Cindy is avoiding me."

That last one hurt, but she had no one to blame for it but herself. The last time she had visited, Cindy had instinctively known that something was bugging her. Her friend had just been trying to help, and what did she do? She pushed her away, practically told her to mind her own business. Never one to beat her head against a brick wall, Cindy had let it go. _Original Cindy ain't gon' butt in where she ain't wanted. You need help getting' yo' head on straight, you lemme know_. That was the last thing OC had said to her. Max had left her friend a couple of messages, hoping things were cool and they could ignore the whole head-straight thing, but Cindy was taking the _tough love_ route.

She was finally ready to admit that Original Cindy was right. It was time to get her head on straight.

Max sighed. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. "I've tried to shake this off, Joshua, but I can't."

"Little Fella call him?"

"Every day," Max replied immediately, with a hint of defensiveness.

Joshua noticed that Max didn't need to ask who the _him_ was, which said a lot about what, or, more accurately, _who_ was on Max's mind. He had suspected as much. Max had barely let Alec out of her sight for almost a year, and now she hadn't seen him in two weeks.

"Not update call," Joshua said pointedly. "No good if ten other people in the room. Just Max and Alec call."

Max turned her head away, avoiding Joshua's eyes. Those eyes saw too much. "Once," she said quietly. Guiltily.

Joshua raised his eyebrows. "Only once?"

The transhuman was honestly surprised. To say Max was concerned about Alec's safety would've been an understatement--_obsessed_ would be more like it. She did everything she could to keep him out of harm's way, and for a long time, Alec had allowed it. He'd stayed close to home, gone on only the cakewalk missions because it made Max feel better. He'd actually put up with it for a lot longer than Joshua had expected.

Now Alec was finally out in the world--gone so long and so far--and Max had to deal with it. It had to be a shock to the system, like an addict going cold turkey. Max being Max, though, it figured she would stubbornly refuse to do the one thing that might afford her a little comfort.

"Look, I don't want him thinkin' that I can't live without him," Max protested. "He's got a big enough ego as it is."

The transhuman sighed. Of course, that would mean that Max would have to admit that she _needed_ a little comfort.

Joshua just looked at her, waiting expectantly. Max suspected that Manticore really dropped the ball with him. He would have been a master interrogator. All he had to do was look at you with those big brown eyes, and before you knew it, you were pouring your guts out to him.

"I don't wanna be one of _those_ girlfriends, okay? Always havin' to know where he's at and what he's doin' twenty-four-seven, like I don't have a life of my own. You know, all graspy, clingy… _needy_." Her mouth twisted in disgust on the last word.

Joshua placed his large hand over hers, giving it a little squeeze. "Can need someone without being needy."

Max pulled her hand away and slumped forward, resting her chin on her knee as she let Joshua's words sink in. She wasn't really sure what she thought about it. It wasn't like she had a lot of experience in the relationship department. For the first time in her life, she was in a long-term, if occasionally a bit rocky, relationship. She felt things that she'd never felt before, and she didn't know how to deal.

Was it normal to need someone so badly that it hurt?

She couldn't ask Alec. How could she possibly ask him something like that? She might as well just shout her codependency issues from the rooftops.

Max grimaced and slumped a little further. "He doesn't say it, but he's prob'ly havin' the time of his life out there. Parties, good food, expensive sheets… you know, the complete opposite of bein' sardined inside these fences. Prob'ly feels like he's finally got room to breathe."

"Know what Joshua think?"

Max turned her head toward her friend. "What?"

Joshua leaned in and said conspiratorially, "Think Alec miss Max as much as Max miss Alec."

Max snorted and rolled her eyes, but as much as she wanted to, she couldn't keep up the tough-girl act. She turned to look back out over the city, reaching up to angrily brush away an unwanted tear.

"He'd better."

* * *

Alec had been gone for fifteen days. He wasn't due back for another two.

Officially, it was business as usual in Terminal City. Unofficially, a duck and cover policy was instituted whenever Max was around. They never knew when she was going to blow. Those who had to deal with her on a regular basis braced themselves as best they could for the onslaught and hoped that they could hold out for another two days. Everyone figured things would get back to normal once Alec got back.

Most of the crew in Command were scattered about the room at what they thought was a safe distance from Ground Zero. Ground Zero was currently Communications, where Max and Mole were standing toe to toe, locked in a heated argument. They'd been arguing for over ten minutes, and the argument seemed to have degenerated to the level where whoever was loudest would win. Dix sat in front of them at the station's creaky desk chair, fiddling with the computer since he hated working Communications, mostly ignoring them. He figured he'd stay out of it until the blood flew.

Max was right up in Mole's face, her body language aggressive and full of attitude. "You know, Mole, why don't you do me a favor and drop the macho-posturing, techno-jargon bullshit. I don't have time to hang around and translate."

"_Bullshit?!_ Listen, bi…" Mole stopped himself before he said something that Alec might make him regret when he got back. "Did you even bother to _look_ at the schematics we left on your desk?! It's all there in black and white!"

"Yeah, I looked at 'em. Now I'm askin' you to tell me what you guys want and why you want it in plain English!"

"Maybe if you'd hung around Manticore a little longer you would've learned something that was actually _useful, _and I wouldn't _have_ to translate!"

There was a collective, if quiet, gasp from everyone in the room. Mole was a dead man.

Max took a step back, staring daggers at the scaly transhuman. She crossed her arms over her chest. "You did _not_ just go there."

Mole had decided that he had finally had enough. He had promised Alec that he would play nice, but he couldn't do it anymore. He would rather have Max pound on him then deal with her for another minute. "What if I did? What're you gonna do about it?"

Max lowered her arms, hands clenching into fists. "Why don't I show you?"

Mole took his cigar out of his mouth, put it out by mashing it against the palm of his hand, then slipped it carefully into his pocket. "Fine by me," he said. "But don't expect me to let you win like your boyfriend does."

"Oh, you are so dead."

At that moment, Dix shoved himself away from the desk, sliding his chair in between Max and Mole with the sound of squeaky wheels. It was a risky move, but no one could ever accuse Dix of being a coward. As he suspected, they stopped glaring at each other and glared at him instead.

"Before you rip Mole's head off, Max, you might want to pick up channel 3. Zev's down at the main gate; needs to talk to you."

Max looked back up at Mole. "I'd rather rip his head off _first_."

Dix shrugged. "Said it's important," he said casually, then rolled himself back to the Communications desk.

Max and Mole stared each other down like a pair of gunfighters on a dusty road. The X5 didn't want to back down. She wanted to pound Mole's smug green face into the floor. But then she would just end up having to read the damn schematics anyway, which was what she had been trying to avoid.

Or, she could do the sensible thing and trust that Mole knew what he was talking about. Which she grudgingly had to admit was true.

"You got a plan to get all that stuff you guys need for the tunnels?"

Mole relaxed a bit, still wary. "I got somethin' in mind."

"Fine. Get me the deets on the plan, we'll put together a team." Without waiting for a response, Max turned and leaned past Dix, flipping the switch for channel 3. "Go for Max."

_Hey, Max, _Zev's voice echoed from the speaker._ Think I'm gonna need you to come down here._

Max's lips tightened into a thin line. Something was up. "What's the sitch?"

_We got some damn fresh-faced newbie on the fences… Corporal Somethin'-or-other. Said he's got a guy out there claiming to be one of ours, but he won't say much more than that._

"A transgenic that actually checked in with the military at the gate?" Max asked, incredulous. Most of the refugees they'd come across had been smart enough to come through the tunnels. The outside world really had no idea how large the population of TC was. There was a small army hiding inside those fences.

_I _know_. Could be he's old school, still marching to the Manitcore drum? _

"Yeah, but when was the last time we saw one of them? Everyone's been out long enough to know better by now."

_Don't ask me, Max. I'm just tellin' you what the peach-fuzz told me. But he did say the guy would only report to the CO._

Max heaved an exasperated sigh. "Great. Another true blue soldier. Just what we need."

_Most of us were true blue once upon a time._

Thinking of Alec, Max replied, "I know. I'll be down in a few."

_Copy that. Zev out._

Max closed the connection, then leaned heavily against the counter. What she really wanted right now was a bed and a good four hours of sleep; she was dragging. She hadn't had a good night's sleep since Alec had left. It made her realize just how much she didn't like sleeping alone anymore.

Right now, however, she had a job to do. She straightened, took a deep breath, and then turned, heading for the door, snagging her jacket on the way. She almost ran into Joshua, who had come to Command looking for Max. He'd been planning to ask her about getting some more paint for the X6 barracks. TC's revitalization project was still going strong, but they were beginning to run out of supplies.

"Hey, Little Fella."

"Joshua! Perfect timing! Take a walk with me, will ya? Got a refugee we need to take a look at," she said, grabbing his arm and dragging him in the direction she wanted to go without waiting for an answer. Joshua took it all in stride and followed along without argument. The paint could wait.

Wil, who had previously been on the other side of the room pretending that he'd been minding his own business, jogged up beside them, shrugging on his own jacket. "Mind if I tag along?"

Max gave him a sidelong glance, never breaking her stride. She shoved through the door and stepped out into the cold afternoon gloom. "I think Josh and I can handle a simple meet and greet, Wil."

"I dunno, Max. Sounds kinda fishy."

"That's why I've got Joshua here," Max replied, poking a thumb over her shoulder in the transhuman's general direction. Joshua nodded his agreement.

Wil would not be deterred. "Well, yeah, but... what if it's a Familiar trying to infiltrate? I should be there to check him out, in my official capacity and all."

"Official capacity, my ass. You just wanna get outta workin' your shift."

"Hey," Wil shot back, sounding offended, "_you _guys were the ones that made me head of Internal Security. Excuse me if I make sure we're internally secure."

"Seriously, do you really think a Familiar would be stupid enough to walk in through the front gate? Past a bunch of soldiers with guns? Not to mention _our_ people…"

"Wil like Zev," Joshua interrupted matter of factly.

"Get out!" Max replied with surprise, coming to a halt. She turned to look at Wil. His red face told her that Joshua had been right on target, and she'd had no clue. Damn, she really _hadn't_ been paying attention lately, had she? "So why don't you just ask her out?" she asked.

"_Why don't you just ask her out?_" Will mocked in a singsongy voice. "You girls always think it's so easy."

"Don't see what's so hard about it." She turned and started walking again, expecting that the boys would follow. They did.

"She's an _alpha female_, Max. Not to mention gorgeous. Do you have any idea of how intimidating you guys are?"

Joshua, being the male of the species, grunted his agreement. Max, on the other hand, was skeptical. She'd seen what Wil could do. "You can take on four opponents at a time, but you can't face Zev?"

As they rounded the corner, and Wil's eyes widened in panic as he spotted Zev. He grabbed Max's arm and hissed, "Shut up, she'll hear you."

Max could've pushed it further, but she figured she should give Wil a break, considering the guy looked like he was gonna bust a blood vessel or something. She walked over to Zev, Joshua following close behind. Wil took a deep breath and pulled himself together, then followed.

"So, where's the guy?" Max asked. There was no one but the standard guards at the gates or in the holding area that the military had set up off to one side.

Zev pushed back a lock of her unruly red hair, which had escaped from the thick braid trailing down her back. Now that Max had finally accepted that Zev wasn't competition, she could admit that the woman was a knockout. No wonder Wil liked her.

"Haven't seen him," Zev replied with a shrug. "Dude's bein' all mysterious. Refuses to see anyone before he sees you. They're keepin' him inside the Dog House."

The Dog House was what the transgenics called the prefab building the military had set up as their permanent post outside the fences. It had come by its name because if you did something to end up in there, you were definitely going to be in the dog house with TC's council. As much as they hated it, the public's perception of transgenics was they key to gaining their freedom.

"Huh." Max's brows furrowed. Maybe it was a Familiar after all. "Guess we better go see who it is."

* * *

They walked through the gate, escorted by one of the officers on duty, who looked to be eighteen, maybe nineteen, tops. His nose was burned bright red by the cold and his skin bleached whiter than white. He looked completely miserable, which was why he probably had the guts to break protocol and talk to them.

"Don't you guys get cold?" he asked, struggling to get the words out because it felt like his jaw was frozen shut. He was in full military winter gear--heavy coat and hat and two layers of socks, and he was still fuckin' cold--and the group of transgenics appeared to be dressed for a brisk fall day.

Max shrugged, smiling at him. Not many of the rank and file had the guts to talk to a group of transgenics. "Course we do. Only difference is we know how to deal with it better."

They filed into the Dog House. They were immediately met by a man who could only be Zev's Corporal Peach-Fuzz. Max felt her level of irritation ratchet up a notch. Who the hell left him in charge? The guy didn't even look like he was old enough to shave! No way could some greener-than-green corporal handle it if there was a riot or an attack. Her irritation ratcheted up a bit higher when Corporal PF approached Wil, not her, and said, "Max Guevara? Corporal Higgins. We have a man here who…"

"Whoa, whoa," Wil said, raising his hands up in protest. "Hold up. I'm not Max."

Higgins looked confused. "Then who…"

"Over here," Max said through clenched teeth, a forced smile on her face.

The corporal turned bright red. "Oh, I see. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were a … I mean, I thought Max was…"

"A guy? Have you even _looked_ at a TV in the past year?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I used to be stationed on the east coast. I wasn't aware…"

Max waved a hand, brushing off his explanation. She was starting to get impatient. "Whatever. Where's the transgenic?"

Higgins cleared his throat. He nodded to one of the other men in the room, who opened the door to the nearest conference (or, if you were being realistic, interrogation) room.

A man stepped through the doorway with such smooth grace that Max would've known him for a transgenic even if she hadn't recognized him. He was dressed in a sharply tailored suit and tie under a dark gray trench coat. His hair looked freshly cut, his leather wingtips gleamed, and his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. Rather unusual dress for your average transgenic, but then, this transgenic had never been average.

He took off his sunglasses. Vibrant green-gold eyes twinkled as he smirked at her ever so slightly.

"This your man?" Corporal Higgins asked gravely. He was taking his job very seriously. Max's transgenic hearing picked up a snicker from one of the other rooms in the back. Looked like the regulars were having a little fun at the newbie's expense.

In the past year and a half, Alec had made several friends from among the officers and enlisted men and women posted at TC. He'd never had trouble making friends. It came naturally to him, which is why he figured the Council had chosen him for the diplomatic mission to Washington DC. These friends came in handy when you wanted to surprise your girl by coming home a few days early.

Max's whole body was tingling and flushed. She wanted to laugh and cry and shout for joy all at once, but she kept a lid on it. Max had tried to keep their relationship low key in public, for his sake as much as her own. There were still too many hate groups out there, not to mention the Familiars; if they knew how much he meant to her, they could use it against her.

That didn't stop her from eyeing him appreciatively. They wanted her to check him out, didn't they? She had absolutely no problem with that. "_Definitely_ my man."

A second door opened up, and out poured a mass of bodies--three soldiers in fatigues, Dalton (who had already shed his jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves) and the four bodyguards that had been sent as their escort. The soldiers were laughing hysterically.

"What's so funny?" Higgins asked, his face a mix of anger and embarrassment.

One of the soldiers clapped him on the shoulder, still laughing. He took a big three-ring binder off of the filing cabinet behind them and slapped it against Corporal Higgins' chest. "You really should bone up on your Terminal City personnel, Corporal."

The corporal flipped open the binder to the fist page. There, side by side and in full color, were pictures of Terminal City's Commander and Second in Command. He looked up, and there they were, standing side by side, in the flesh.

Alec shrugged as if to say, _Sorry, man._

* * *

After filling out a bit of paperwork for the pencil pushers, the transgenic party was escorted back into TC. As soon as they were out of sight of the main gate, Max spun and jumped into Alec's arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. She grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him wildly, trusting in his strength that he would not let her fall.

"I think that's our cue to depart," quipped Lon, nudging one of his fellow bodyguards. The four of them broke away from the group, heading back to their own apartments for some much needed sleep. Dalton, Zev, Wil, and Joshua remained.

When Max and Alec finally broke for air, Max, grinning like the Cheshire cat, exclaimed, "We weren't expecting you back 'til Thursday!"

Alec, his own smile echoing Max's, gave a little shrug and said, "Things went well; we got out early. Thought I'd surprise you. Oh, and the Vice President says hi."

"You actually got to meet with the Vice President?" Alec must've made more headway than they had expected.

"Yeah. He beat me at poker, but I got even at the pool tables."

"You were supposed to be talkin' serious business, not screwing around playin'..." Max stopped abruptly. She drew back her head, incredulous. "Wait a minute. He beat you at poker?"

Alec gave her a wink. "I had to leave the guy _some_ dignity, didn't I? The dude was pretty cool, for a politician. The rest of 'em were pretty much a bunch of stiffs, though." He took a look around, finally seeing something other than Max. TC seemed to be in one piece. "So, how're things on the home front? You didn't kill Mole while I was gone, did you?"

Max grinned. "No, but it was a near miss."

Alec returned her grin. Max and Mole were like oil and water… on fire. "I'll bet."

They stared at each other for a few minutes, neither of them able to stop grinning. Then they were kissing again, completely oblivious to the fact that they were standing in the middle of the street, surrounded by their friends.

"Jeez, you guys, get a room," Wil groused.

Zev laughed and elbowed Wil in the side. "There aren't enough rooms in Terminal City for _those_ two."

Wil sighed. Seeing Max and Alec together was just another painful reminder of his own pathetically lacking love life--a pathetic lack that was no one's fault but his own. He was currently celibate because he was (_an idiot_) too scared to ask a girl out.

Never taking her eyes off of Alec, Max called out to Wil, "Hey, you think you guys can hold down the fort? Alec needs to be…," there was only the slightest of hesitations, "debriefed."

Zev and Dalton bust out laughing. Wil just stood there, shaking his head. "Thank you so much for that mental image," he said sarcastically.

As Max and Alec went off to get to the business of debriefing, Joshua looked with puzzlement at Zev and Dalton. "What so funny?"

"Dude," Dalton gasped, out of breath from laughing. "De_briefed_. De… breifed." Joshua just gave him a blank look, which made Dalton roll his eyes at having to spell it out. "_Briefs_. Get it?"

Joshua stood still as the information sank in, then his eyes widened. "Ah. Max and Alec get busy."

Wil closed his eyes and shook his head. With another sigh, he said, "I'm going back to Command."

Zev and Dalton laughed harder.

* * *

_Much, much later…_

Alec grunted in half-serious protest as he felt Max's hands glide over his sweat-slickened skin. She couldn't possibly think that he could go again so soon, could she? His heart hadn't even stopped pounding from their last go-round. He was good, but he wasn't _that_ good. She couldn't be seri…_oh_. Oh, yes, she was definitely very serious.

"Timeout," he gasped, wrapping his hands around her wrists to still her roaming hands. If she kept this up, he was going to have a coronary. Or a stroke. Or maybe both.

"Not playin' football, here, babe," she murmured against his neck, the sound of her voice vibrating against the pulse point.

His eyelids fluttered briefly at the sensation. "Tell me about it," he muttered, feeling his resistance weakening. "Football's a lot less strenuous."

"But not half as fun," Max purred, easily slipping out of the weak hold he had on her wrists.

"Okay, hold up," Alec said when her hands started to roam again. This was not normal, even for them. He deftly flipped her off of him onto the mattress and then rolled away, putting the expanse of bed between them. When she grinned wickedly and started a sinuous, ridiculously sexy crawl across the bed that made him want to… _come on, stay focused here, Alec! _… he held up warding hands to stop her. "You're not going into heat again, are you?" he asked warily.

Max crouched, ready to spring. "Can't be. S'only been three months."

Alec stepped to the side to take him out of Max's line of fire. They way Max's eyes tracked him made him feel like prey… which, if she was going back into heat, was not an entirely inaccurate description. "You sure you're not? 'Cause you about killed me last time. I don't…"

He was cut off as Max leapt and tackled him, sending them both crashing to the floor. She would've pressed her advantage, but Alec recovered quickly enough to grab her wrists. This time, he held on tight.

"Christ, Max! Will you hold up for two seconds?" he asked with a hint of desperation, but Max was having none of it. Straddling him, she struggled against his grip, forcing him to tighten it even further. He didn't want to hurt her, but he was getting concerned and maybe even a little bit scared. "Look, I'm being serious, here." He yanked at her wrists, bringing her upper body closer to him so they were face to face. She stilled at the intense look in his eyes. "We're not _prepared_," he said, heavily emphasizing the last word.

After a few unplanned heat-related pregnancies among the female X5s, Vash and her team had wasted no time developing birth control that would work on transgenics. Normal methods didn't work, and condoms were out, since neither party usually had the wherewithal to remember to use one during heat-related sex.

Now, at the first sign that a woman was going into heat, both she and her partner would get an injection of Vash's special concoction; so far, it seemed to be working pretty well. Vash said it should be around ninety-five percent effective, but that was only if both partners took it in time--time that they no longer had if Max really was going into heat.

Max froze and thought about how she felt. She was horny, sure, but it wasn't a mind-numbing horniness like when she was in heat. It was normal horniness, just a bit amplified. Her body wanted to make up for lost time, that was all.

"Smell any pheromones?" she asked. Better safe than sorry.

Alec paused and took in a slow breath through his nose. After a moment, he replied, "No," but there was a hint of uncertainty in the word. There was… something; he just couldn't put his finger on it.

Max didn't give him any time to put his finger on it. She wanted those fingers on _her_. She broke his grip and wrapped a hand around the back of Alec's neck. She forcefully tugged him into a sitting position, bringing them chest to chest. "Then shut up and screw me, soldier," she commanded, her face as stern as the toughest Manticore drill sergeant.

Alec's eyes lit with reawakened desire. Maxie sure knew how to push his buttons.

He flipped her over onto her back, trapping her between his arms. Before she could escape and take back control, Alec lowered himself to his elbows and pressed his weight down on her, pinning her further. "Is that my woman talkin', or my CO?"

Max felt a smile tugging at her lips, but she resisted, staying in character. "_Both_."

Alec lifted an eyebrow. "Well, then. Guess I'd better get to it."

* * *

The shower was still running. He wasn't really surprised. For a girl that was supposed to be part cat, Max sure loved water.

Alec was standing in their bedroom. Sometimes it still felt odd to think of it as _their_ bedroom… _their_ apartment. The two of them, together.

When your wildest dream came true--especially when you never dared admit you'd been dreaming it--it was kind of hard to believe that it was real. That is wasn't all some pleasant fantasy from which you would be rudely awakened.

He was supposed to be in the kitchen making sandwiches, but he'd become distracted by his own thoughts. He nervously glanced over his shoulder, making sure that Max wasn't standing there, watching him. The odds of her sneaking up on him when he was in high-alert mode were about slim to none, but he was afraid to take that chance.

He picked his suit jacket up off the floor, digging down into the interior breast pocket until he found what he was looking for. As he pulled out the small cloth bag, he felt his heart begin to flutter in his chest, like a bird's wings beating against a cage. He loosened the string, then carefully slid the contents of the bag into his palm.

Two rings, one a bit larger than the other. Two thick, perfect circles of white gold. The surface of each ring was so smooth and bright that he could see his reflection in them. The inside of each ring was inscribed with a solitary character--an eight on its side, the symbol for infinity. It was the simplest way he could think of to describe what he felt for her and what he wanted, because what he felt was deep and endless, and what he wanted was forever.

And it scared the hell out of him.

He didn't know what to say, or how to say it. How would he even know when it was the right time? Or even if Max would be okay with it? That was the thought that scared him the most. What if she wasn't ready to take that step? What if she thought they were too young to be thinking about forever? What if she thought he was making some sort of Cro-Magnon attempt to claim her? There were too many _what ifs_.

Alec heard her call his name from just outside the room. Panicking, he hastily slipped the rings back into the pouch, then shoved it deep into his pants pocket. He turned around just as she reached the door.

He stopped and stared, lost in the moment. Even after all this time, the sight of her could still make everything stop.

"Thought you were gettin' the food?" she asked with a quizzical lift of an eyebrow.

Alec's brain stumbled as he tried to think of an excuse. "I was. I just…," his eyes fell on the overflowing hamper, "…had a little trouble finding clean clothes."

Max crossed her arms and leaned against door, a mild challenge in her eyes. "Hope you weren't expectin' me to go all Suzy Homemaker while you were gone and deal with your dirty laundry."

Alec smiled a little. Max _had_ dealt with it. Not all of it, of course, but enough that he had something to wear. Was it messed up that a little thing like a few clean clothes could make his heart ache?

He walked over to her, taking her gently by the shoulders. He leaned down and kissed her softly on forehead. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Touched, Max's eyes fluttered, blinking back tears. _Tears_. Seriously, that just wasn't right. She was never going to let Alec go away for that long again if it was going to make her all sappy.

She cleared her throat. "Come on. I'll help you with the food." Alec drew his head back, clearly skeptical. "What?" she said defensively. "I can make a sandwich!"

Alec draped an arm over her shoulders and steered them toward kitchen. "Of course you can, sweetheart," he said in a patronizing tone, giving her a little squeeze. "But do we really want to take that risk?"

Max frowned. "I'm not that bad a cook."

"Right," Alec said, humoring her. He put his hand to his chin, affecting a thinking man pose, then blurted out, "Wait, I know! How 'bout we put you in charge of the chips? Now, what you do, see, is open the bag and then…"

"You ass," Max said, giving him a hip check that sent him stumbling to the side. Instead of taking offense at the insult, he laughed.

She loved it when he laughed like that--uncontrolled and without any pretense. Alec was still so guarded, even with her sometimes. Old habits died hard, she supposed. It made her treasure every moment when he would let the mask slip.

She turned to head into the kitchen, but Alec stopped her, pulling her against him so that her back was to his chest.

"Aw, Maxie, you know you love me," he said as he slipped his arms around her.

"Maybe," she teased, making a half-hearted attempt to get away. "On occasion."

"Only on occasion?" Alec asked. Before she could pull free, he reached up, fingers lightly brushing her skin as he pulled her hair to one side. He leaned down to plant a gentle, lingering kiss on her neck.

Max felt herself go warm all over. It wasn't the heat of desire--that had been well sated over the past couple of hours. It was love.

She let herself melt into his body. It still amazed her how perfectly they fit together. "I missed you," she said with a gentle sigh.

Alec tightened his arms around her, struck by the raw emotion she conveyed with those three, simple words. "I missed you, too."

"Do me a favor?"

"Anything."

The complete lack of hesitation in his answer had Max swallowing around a lump in her throat. She knew she could ask anything of him, and whatever it was, he would do it, if it was in his power. "Don't do that again."

"Do what?"

"Leave me behind."

His heart tightened, but he kept his tone light. "What about Max Law Number 13?"

Max Law Number 13: The CO or the SIC must be present in Terminal City at all times. She'd come up with that one to keep him from going on a mission she'd thought was too dangerous, and now it had come back to bite her in the ass.

"I hate it when you throw my own words back in my face."

She tried to pull away from him, but he didn't let her go. "Hey," he said softly, a bit puzzled by the bitterness in her tone. He pulled her back against his body, capturing her in his arms. ''You know I would never leave you, right?"

Max didn't see the walls of their kitchen. She saw Alec, in the tunnels, covered in his own blood. Alec, on a gurney in Medical, whispering the words "Love you" right before the heart monitor screamed out flatline. Alec, his body arching off the bed as Vash shocked him back to life. Alec, dead and gone, in thousands of ways that had never happened but just might if she didn't do everything she could to stop it.

She trusted Alec with her life. She just couldn't bring herself to trust him with his own.

She closed her eyes and held him tighter. "Your mouth has a habit of making promises the rest of you can't keep_._"

Alec held the woman he loved and thought of a pair of rings buried deep in his pocket. "Not this time, Maxie."

* * *

"Forget it."

"Would you just listen…"

"What part of _NO_ don't you understand?"

Two weeks had passed since Max and Alec had extensively celebrated Alec's return from Washington DC. Life in Terminal City had slowly returned to normal.

Publicly, they dealt with the media. They negotiated with the government. They had as much fun as life in a confined environment would allow them. Privately, they planned covert operations for the things in life they found necessary to their continued existence--food, clothing, but also as much munitions and high-end technology as they could get their hands on. All in all, a normal week in Terminal City.

Of course, a normal week in Terminal City never passed without some sort of argument between the city's leaders.

"But what if we both…" Alec continued, but Max cut him off. She already knew what he was going to say, and she knew better than to let him get on a roll. Shaking her head, she said, "We can't both go. You know that."

Wil, who was working a shift at Communications, leaned back in his chair and drawled, "Yeah, man, Max Law Number 13."

"Nobody asked you," Alec snapped at his fellow X5, never taking his eyes off of Max. He followed her as she moved to the table that held supplies for the mission. Max's team members were already there, loading up. "How 'bout I go instead?"

"Nuh uh."

"_Pleeeeese?_ Pretty please? With a cherry on top?"

Max forced herself not to smile at his theatrics. If she smiled at him, it was all over. "No way. It's my turn."

All signs of humor drained from Alec's face. Suddenly, he was dead serious. "Why is it that it's always my turn when it's a milk run for food or medical supplies, but it's your turn when it comes to something dangerous?"

Max was suddenly very interested in adjusting the straps on her bag. "Dunno. Funny how it works out that way."

"Hysterical," Alec replied sarcastically.

He stared at her, hoping that if he kept it up long enough, he could make her change her mind. It didn't work, because a) he was seriously lacking in telecoercion mojo, and b) she wouldn't even look at him, which made it hard to work any of his regular coercion mojo. She kept her eyes focused on the supplies she was stuffing into her pack. He might as well have not even been there.

He'd been irritated about the whole situation before, but now he was pissed. Did she think he would just go away if she ignored him? That he'd drop it and go back to being a kept man?

Max was zipping her bag shut when Alec grabbed her arm. She let out a protesting, "Hey!" but he ignored it. He pulled her up the small flight of stairs toward his office. It wasn't privacy he was looking for--transgenic hearing pretty much made that impossible--but things were about to get serious, and it was not something that he wanted on display.

Alec pulled her into his office, shut the door, and then pressed her back against it. Before she could make a move, he stepped into her, standing so close they were almost touching. "You think I don't know what you've been doing?" he said as he looked down on her, his voice deep and devoid of his usual mirth.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Max replied, a little too quickly. She shifted, reaching for the doorknob, but Alec's arms shot forward, palms slamming flat on either side of her as he pinned her between his arms.

Max's muscles tensed as she fought every instinct inside of her that was screaming at her to react.

"Come on, Max. You've changed missions around three times in the last month. You won't let me go on anything outside of a ten-mile radius of TC. Hell, you probably only agreed to let me do the DC thing because I'd be under heavy government protection, and even then, you sent four bodyguards with me. You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about!"

Max felt like she was on fire. She _did_ know. Just like she had known that eventually Alec would call her out on it. She was guilty as charged.

She'd tried to let go. She really had. But every time she tried, something would happen to remind her of how short life could be and she would find herself holding on tighter.

Alec took a slow, deliberate step back, letting his arms drop to his sides. The look in his eyes was deadly serious, and it scared her. "I spent most of my life a prisoner, Max. I won't do it again."

"That's not fair," whispered, hurt. She'd only been trying to keep him safe. Why couldn't he see that?

"No. It's not." And she knew that he wasn't talking about what he'd said to her.

Max had never really realized how much she was used to Alec letting her have her own way. For the first time in a long time, he was pushing back, standing his ground, and she responded in anger before she could stop herself.

"Nobody's keepin' you here. You wanna leave, leave."

She hadn't meant it. As soon as she said it, she wanted to take it back. She wanted to find the words that would fix it, make everything better, but they wouldn't come. She watched, silent, as the smoldering anger in Alec's eyes turned into a white-hot blaze that stole her breath away.

Alec's jaw clenched, a vein in his temple throbbing with every beat of his heart. He could have finished what Max had started. He was mad enough, that was for sure. He'd put up with it for months. Months! He'd thought that maybe she would ease up eventually, and she had, a little bit, but enough was enough. He was a man, dammit. She couldn't keep trying to protect him from the world.

As he stared down into Max's wide brown eyes, he knew that this would've been the big one, the argument that would end it all. He didn't even have to say a word. All he had to do was walk out that door.

The anger burning inside of him was banked. The last thing he wanted to do was lose her.

Besides, he knew she meant well. She just was a little overzealous with her protective instincts. He slowly let out the breath he had been holding, letting his anger slip away with it.

He would let it go. For now.

"Come on, Maxie," he whined dramatically, hoping his tone would defuse the argument. "I've got nothing to do, and it's driving me crazy. Let me have a little fun, will ya?"

Max leaned back against the door in relief, afraid that her knees wouldn't support her. He was letting it drop. He'd fallen back into their familiar bickering to give her an out.

He'd let her win. Again.

Too bad she couldn't return the favor.

Max pushed away from the door and opened it, walking back out into central Command. She felt like she had just dodged a bullet. "You just spent twelve days in DC," she shot back, infusing her words with as much attitude as possible. She hoped it would disguise the fact that she'd been scared out of her fucking mind.

Alec followed Max out the door. "Talking to a bunch of politicians is not my idea of a good time."

"Your idea of a good time could get you arrested…," Max scoffed, amazed at how easy it was to fall back into their usual pattern, even after what had just happened between them.

"Name the last time I got arrested," Alec interjected. Mistaken identities didn't count.

Ignoring him, Max continued, "… _or_ killed."

"That's not fair. I haven't been shot at in months."

Max came to a sudden halt. She spun around and fixed him with a glare that he was pretty sure could've frozen water. Alec crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly on the defensive. "That last time totally didn't count. The guy's gun jammed."

_The gun jammed. _He said it like it was no big deal. Like he hadn't almost had his head blown off by some cracked-out junkie that had stumbled across a buy for medical supplies. She'd had nightmares for weeks, and it was no big deal?

"Yeah, and if it hadn't, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now, would we? You'd be dead, and I'd be scattering your ashes over the Puget Sound!"

It was always _that_ image--the final act of letting go--that haunted her dreams the most.

Maybe he was conceding the point, or maybe he was responding to the way her voice broke at the end of her words, but Alec fell silent, shoulders sagging in defeat.

Relief flowed through her. God, she needed _out_--out of the building, out and away from him before something else happened. They could work it out later, when she got back and they'd both had time to cool off, but right now, she needed to put as much space between her and Alec as possible.

"I'll see you when I get back," she said, forcing an ease into her tone that she didn't feel. She grabbed her pack from the table and brushed past him to join the waiting members of her team, who were all careful to look anywhere but at Max and Alec, as if they hadn't been listening the entire time.

"Don't think that we're dropping this, Max!" Alec called out to her retreating back.

She waved a hand at him without ever turning around. "Whateva."

Alec watched her go. He loved her desperately, but damn if the woman didn't frustrate the hell out of him sometimes.

He wanted to drag her back to their apartment and lock her in until they worked out this shit between them. That would go over real well with her, now, wouldn't it? He was lucky that she hadn't pounded his ass after he'd dragged her into his office. He was actually kind of glad that he hadn't yet worked up the courage to give her the ring he'd been carrying around in his pocket for two weeks, because she probably would've thrown it back in his face.

She would be gone for a couple of days on this mission, so his mad would have to stew until then. When she got back, they were gonna have a serious discussion, whether she liked it or not.

Alec turned and marched into his office, slamming his door so hard the walls rattled.

"Whoa," Dix muttered, his eyes widening. "Déjà vu."

"Great," Mole groused. "Just great. I'm tellin' you, Dix, he starts bitchin' me out like Max did, I'm just gonna shoot him and be done with it."

"Shut up, Mole!" Alec yelled through the closed door.

Luke, who had been standing on the far side of the room, wisely staying out of the line of fire, stared at Alec's closed door. He shook his head.

"Here we go again."

* * *

A/N: Have patience… I need to set the scene.


	3. Ch 2: The Mirror Cracks

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: Please pardon me for the unforgivable delay, but I had a lingering cold, and all I wanted to do was sleep. Writing took a back seat. I seem to be on the mend, so hopefully updates will come faster in the future.

Warning: Language and violence.

* * *

Chapter 2: The Mirror Cracks

"How much longer?" Max asked, moving up in between the driver and passenger seats of the cargo van to rest her elbows on the top of each seat. She knew it irritated Brand, the bald, linebacker-like X5 in the driver's seat, but she couldn't help herself. She itched to be behind the wheel--giving up control always made her antsy--but she'd done the sensible thing and passed on driving so she could go over the plan with the rest of the team.

Sometimes it sucked to be a leader.

Of course, it probably wasn't very leader-like the way she kept bugging him every five minutes, but it wasn't like there were any rules for being the leader of a band of militant, genetically-engineered mutations, so she figured it was all good.

Brand's hands tightened on the wheel, the only visible sign that she was getting on his nerves. "Taking back seat driving to a new level, aren't you, Max?"

Max smirked. It had only taken him two and a half hours to finally call her on it. "Just tell me how long, Brand."

Brand glanced down at the GPS hooked on the dashboard. "Half hour, maybe less, 'til we hit Yakima."

Max nodded, pleased. They were making good time, even with the roundabout, off-the-beaten-path route they'd picked to stay under the radar. She patted Brand on the shoulder and said, "Keep up the good work."

As she turned to head to the back of the van, she was pretty sure she heard the steering wheel groan slightly under the pressure of Brand's fingers.

The rest of her team members were sitting cross-legged in the back of the cargo van, leaning over a map spread out between them. There was Nila, expert at stealth and covert operations and former (if imagined) rival for Alec's affections; Kai and Jin, mirror images of each other and both expert marksmen; and Kel, their boyish expert on all things technical.

They were all X series, if only because if something went south, it would be easier for them to mix in with the locals. She had hand-picked each member of her five-man team personally, selecting only those she knew could keep a level head. Since her own head felt far from level these days, she thought it would be a good idea to surround herself with people who knew how to keep their cool.

Add her and Brand to the mix, and you had six transgenics to handle what should be a fairly basic deal for surveillance equipment. Probably overkill, but the job was over two hours from their nearest backup and way too close to the Yakima Firing Center for comfort. Better safe than sorry.

"Okay," she said to the team. "Let's go over it one more time."

* * *

At 0930 hours, Dalton jogged up the short flight of steps in Command, heading towards Alec's office with clipboard in hand. As Alec's formerly-un-but-now-official assistant, it was his job to make sure Terminal City's SIC stayed on top of everything.

Most of his fellow X6s envied his position on the Command staff, but it wasn't exactly a walk in the park. Sure, the job had its perks; he'd gotten to go to DC--the first time in forever that he had _legally _been outside in the real world--and that had been all kinds of awesome. But keeping Alec on track was hard work.

There was no problem with their SIC when it came to physical work. Sure, he played at being lazy when it suited him, but if there was something going down that would keep the X5 out of his office, Alec was always the first to volunteer. His hatred of paperwork was legendary, as was his ability to disappear whenever some poor fool tried to send it his way. Max used to try to keep him in line, but she had gladly passed the duty on to Dalton. Now he knew why.

The X6 walked into Alec's office with his eyes on his clipboard, mentally preparing himself for battle. "Hey, Alec. You ready to go over…" he began, but words failed him as he looked up. He came to a halt just inside the door, taken aback.

Alec was slouched in his office chair, one leg over an armrest and his head lolling bonelessly over the backrest. He spun his chair in a lazy circle, staring up at the ceiling. From the rumpled state of his hair and clothes, he looked like he had been there all night.

"Umm… Alec?" Dalton called out when the X5 didn't acknowledge his presence.

"Present and accounted for," Alec drawled, chair continuing its slow spin.

"Okay," Dalton replied warily, confused by his friend's strange response and even stranger behavior. He hesitated for a moment, not really sure what he would do if the answer to the question he was about to ask was _no _(after all, he was only fifteen), but he asked it anyway. "You all right?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I dunno. You're usually not this…"

"Lackadaisical? Languorous? Indolent?"

The X6 made a face. "…weird."

Alec stopped his chair's spin halfway through its rotation and rolled his head so he could look at Dalton. "You here for a reason, kid?"

"Well, yeah. I wanted to find out if you finished the mission roster for next week. Mole said he needs to…"

The X5 didn't give him a chance to finish. He reached over, picked up a stack of papers, gave them a weak flourish, then dropped them back down on the desk.

The teenager's eyes widened in surprise. Alec having a roster done on time, without needing to be reminded? That was something new. He made a checkmark on his list.

"I hate that clipboard," Alec groused, brows furrowing. To him, it represented everything that sucked about the whole leadership gig. Why did running a city full of test tube freaks involve so much paperwork, anyway?

Dalton nodded. "I know. That's why I carry it. What about the supply lists? They're going to be discussed at the next meeting. Looks like we need to go over rations…"

While Dalton was still speaking, Alec spun his chair a little to the left, picked up another stack, and let it drop.

Dalton raised an eyebrow. "Medical supplies?"

Another stack was picked up and dropped.

"Munitions?"

And another.

The X6 lowered his clipboard. "Okay, who are you, and what have you done with our SIC?"

Alec laughed, but it was half-hearted. "I was beginning to wonder that myself."

"So…" Dalton said as he approached Alec's desk, eying the various stacks of completed paperwork, "you've been busy."

"Was busy," Alec corrected. "_Was_ being the key word. Now I'm bored. Bored. Bored. Bored," he finished with a put-upon sigh, sending his chair into a quick whirl with a push of his foot.

He'd run out of things to do hours ago. He'd gone through every pending report, list, and form on his desk, and then some from Max's. He'd rearranged the pens and pencils in his drawer twice, fixed Max's squeaky desk chair, and made a passable-looking miniature tank out of the wire from an old spiral notebook. The only thing he had left was to stew over the current situation between him and Max, and he really didn't want to think about that right now. That's why he was in his office all night in the first place, right? So he wouldn't have to be alone in an empty apartment where all he could do was think. There wasn't anything he could do about their situation until she got back anyway, so what was the point in dwelling?

Alec was bored, huh? Dalton smelled opportunity in the air. He moved in closer and sat down on the edge of Alec's desk, picking up the miniature tank and examining it. "You know, I heard about this new pool hall," he said, trying to sound like he didn't really care, "not far from your old Jam Pony stomping grounds. If you need something to do, wouldn't hurt to slip the fences, check it out."

Alec stopped his spinning chair to face Dalton. There was disapproval in his eyes, not because Dalton had suggested sneaking out (_Hello, Pot? Meet Kettle._), but because the kid was too obvious about his true motives. He'd have to sit the boy down, work on his technique. "And I suppose you'd have my back if I decided to sneak out," the X5 replied flatly.

Dalton shrugged, trying to keep a lid on his excitement at the thought of sneaking out. It had been six months since he'd been able to get out and wander the streets of Seattle. It hadn't ended well that last time, but it had been fun while it lasted.

He started collecting all of the reports from Alec's desk, attaching them to his clipboard to conceal the fact that he was practically quivering with anticipation. "Wouldn't want you to be in violation of Max Law."

Alec raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really? Did you forget about 13?"

Dalton stopped, letting the clipboard drop to the desk. "_Damn_."

Alec laughed. "Sorry to rain on your parade, kid. Anyway, lawbreaking aside, I can't sneak out. Had a fight with Max."

Dalton scoffed. "So? You've gone out behind her back plenty of times."

"We weren't fighting at the time."

"But you're _always_ fighting with Max." It wasn't quite a whine, but it came close.

Alec's lips twisted in a crooked smile. "True."

The kid had a point, but Dalton didn't really get it. How could he explain how it worked between him and Max? Hell, he could hardly figure it out himself half the time. By all rights, he and Maxie should've crashed and burned a long time ago, and yet, here they were, a year later, still beating the odds.

Assuming, of course, that Max didn't throw him out on his ass as soon as she got back.

Alec sighed. "I guess sneaking out hits a little too close to home right now."

Dalton frowned, disappointed. He didn't see what the big deal was. What Max didn't know, right? And it's not like he had suggested going out to a strip club or anything like that. A little harmless fun wouldn't hurt anyone. He certainly wouldn't feel obligated to check with Kazi, his semi-serious girlfriend for the past four and a half months, if _he_ wanted to spend a night out on the town.

"I don't know why you always let Max push you around," he grumbled, then froze when he realized what he had just said. He felt a lump rise in his throat, and he silently cursed himself. Why the hell had he said that? He might as well have just asked Alec for an ass kicking and be done with it.

Instead of handing out the feared ass kicking, Alec pinned the young X6 with his steady gaze. He looked Dalton up and down, taking stock, then asked, "You still a virgin?"

Dalton didn't answer. He didn't have to. His beet red face answered for him.

"Then shut up," Alec snapped, spinning his chair around to face the back wall. He didn't need relationship advice from a fifteen year old kid that hadn't even experienced sex yet, much less the complexities of love.

Dalton let out a quiet sigh of relief. He turned and practically tiptoed his way to the door, afraid to draw attention to himself in case Alec might change his mind about the ass kicking. He was almost home free when he heard Alec's chair spin back around.

"Dalton."

The X6 froze, back still turned. _Here it comes_, he thought, bracing himself.

"You forgot your clipboard," Alec said in a cool, even voice that scared Dalton more than anything.

The X6 took a deep breath, then turned and walked toward the desk cautiously. He picked up his clipboard without trying to appear rushed, when what he really wanted to do was get out of there as fast as he could. The last time he had pissed Alec off, the teenager had ended up paying the price, big time, dragging his partner in crime Oscar down with him.

He turned to leave when Alec's voice stopped him again. "These too," the X5 said, shoving two boxes full of revised rooming assignments and various other paperwork out of from behind his desk with his foot.

Dalton looked at the boxes, then back to Alec. The X5 raised an eyebrow in challenge. It was a ton of work, pretty much guaranteeing that Dalton would have no personal life for the next couple of days.

The X6's shoulders sagged. So much for trying to reach third base with Kazi later that evening.

Despite this, Dalton wisely decided to keep his mouth shut. He went over and picked up the boxes without comment. He'd suffer through and hope that Alec would be in a better mood when Max got back.

"Shut the door," Alec said as he spun his chair around to face the wall again.

Feeling like he had dodged a bullet, Dalton got the hell out of there, snapping the door shut behind him.

On his way down the catwalk toward the steps, he passed Oscar, the shy X6 who had, in the past six months, become one of his best friends. "Don't go in there," he told Oscar in a low voice as he blew by him.

Oscar drew up short a few feet from Alec's door. He backpedaled and followed Dalton down the catwalk. "Why not?"

"He's bored."

"Oh," Oscar said, coming to a stop at the top of the stairs. Dalton headed down. "Wait," Oscar called out, jogging down the steps to catch up with his friend, "that's bad, right?"

Dalton grimaced and nodded to the deep stack of paperwork in his hands. "What do _you_ think?"

Oscar looked up at Alec's closed door, worried. He was supposed to give Alec the Border Report from Zev, but he began to think that it should wait if the SIC was in a bad mood. And now that he thought about it… "Maybe we should skip class this afternoon…"

"Good idea. Here," Dalton said, tilting the boxes he was holding. The top box slid toward Oscar, who had to scramble to catch it. "Help me out with this." He turned and walked away before Oscar could say no.

"But I was going to…" Oscar began, thinking of his plans to try out the new homemade foosball table at EOS later that evening. He trailed off when he realized Dalton was already leaving him behind.

He could've dumped the box and figured to hell with Dalton, but he wasn't really wired that way, and Dalton knew it. With an irritated growl, Oscar followed.

Friendship could be a real pain in the ass sometimes.

* * *

Concealed by a mass of trees and brush, Max and Brand were lying side by side on their stomachs on a small ridge that overlooked their target, taking turns staring through a pair of binoculars. Behind them, twins Kai and Jin were busy setting up base camp, while Kel did whatever the hell it was he did on that laptop of his. Brand was a silent presence beside her, comforting in his steadiness. Out of everyone she'd brought with her, she trusted him the most.

Everything looked quiet--almost too quiet, considering their proximity to the Yakima Firing Center. The Army boys must've been taking a break on the heavy ordinance maneuvers that day. Thank God for small favors.

Both Max and Brand jumped when Nila suddenly appeared from the bushes to their left. She was one of the few X5s that could actually successfully sneak up on another transgenic.

"The stuff is there," Nila said, panting slightly, a smudge of dirt on her cheek. "Truck's in the old storage shed. There's minimal security--a bargain-basement security system, some cameras. Nothing we couldn't handle with our eyes closed."

Max nodded. "Good."

Nila hesitated, looking back toward the rest of the group. She knew what they were thinking, but none of them had the courage to voice it. Well, _she_ did. "Let's take it."

Max pushed herself up to her knees, dusting herself off. "No."

Nila stood her ground. "Come on. It makes sense. We go get it, we could haul ass out of here a day early _and_ keep our money."

Brand got up and advanced on the blonde X5. "Don't start, Nila. I told you…"

Max stood and stepped between Nila and Brand, putting a hand on Brand's chest to halt him. "I'll handle this." She took a deep breath, refusing to let herself lash out in anger. This was no time to lose it. Once she felt she had control, she turned to face Nila.

"We only steal when we absolutely have to. That's what the council decided, and that's what we're gonna stick to. We're gonna buy this equipment, fare and square."

Nila rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Like _this_ guy got it fare and square. Next we'll be hugging trees and saving whales."

Max ground her teeth and silently counted to ten, making a conscious effort not to clench her fists. She was cool. She was chill. She was a friggin' _iceberg_.

"We're not stealin' it, and that's final. You don't like it? Tough. We want freedom in this country, we gotta start livin' by the rules."

Nila's jaw clenched in an angry pout. Max was right, but that didn't mean that she had to like it. "Fine," she said with a huff.

Over by the van, Kel's flying fingers stilled over his keyboard. He blew a large pinkish-purple bubble of gum, then sucked it back in with a crack. "That's why she's the leader and you're not," he said with a grin.

Nila gave him a one-fingered salute.

* * *

"I _told_ you, Max is unavailable," Alec said, trying to keep the growl out of his voice. Growling at a colonel in the old days would've gotten him a bullet to the head. Growling at Colonel Flanagan… well, it was probably a bad idea, but at least he wouldn't get a bullet to the head for it.

_And I told _you_, I need to talk to her. This is not a social call, McDowell. I need to speak to her on a matter that requires her immediate attention. _

Internally, Alec was cursing up a blue streak. Of course Flanagan would insist on talking to Max, and of course it would have to be today, of all days, when Max wasn't around to talk to.

He should've known. His day had gotten progressively worse before he'd even stepped out of his office that morning. He'd broken his office chair, spilled coffee on himself, shorted out the surveillance monitors, and somehow managed to make a small group of young X8s cry. He could've blamed all of this on his distracted state, which was assuredly 99% of the cause. He was, however, trying really hard to pretend that everything was fine, so instead, he blamed it on bad luck.

"I understand that, Colonel, and I sympathize with your plight, but there's nothing I can do about it." Alec thought he almost sounded sincere. "Max can't talk to you right now."

_Why not?_

"None of your damn business."

_I'm afraid I must insist._

Alec heard the suspicion in Flanagan's voice. He knew the military suspected they made unauthorized trips outside the fences, but suspecting was different than knowing. Alec had to keep it that way.

"Medical reasons," the X5 said reluctantly. It was the only excuse they could come up with that the military might actually buy.

_Medical reasons. Isn't that why both you and Ms. Guevara weren't available several months ago? _

Shit. He and Max had been out of commission for days when her heat cycle had hit. Though technically, it _had_ been medical reasons back then.

"Yeah. So?"

_So I'm beginning to think you're lying to me, McDowell. These repeated 'medical issues' seem too convenient._

Maybe it was the lack of sleep last night, or maybe it was anxiety over the fight he'd had with Max, but for the first time in a long time, Alec lost his cool.

"Don't talk to me about _convenient_, you egotistical, pencil-pushing sonofabitch. Our lives are the opposite of convenient. And what the fuck would you know about it, anyway? No one tried to play God with your DNA."

_I hardly think …_ Flanagan said, trying to get a word in edgewise, but Alec was on a roll.

"You don't know jack about us or the stuff we have to go through! Excuse us if the fucking science experiments go a little wrong every once and while. When I tell you Max is unavailable, it means that she is un-fucking-available. You don't want talk to me? Fine. I've got no problem with that. But don't ever call me a liar again."

With that, Alec jammed the disconnect button so hard that it cracked.

Wil, who had been manning Communications and had given his seat up to Alec when the call came in, leaned over and said quietly, "Don't you think that was a little over the top? Especially considering that you _were_ lying?"

"Maybe," Alec snapped back, still seething with anger. As he began to calm down, he thought about what he'd said and about the dozens of calls that Max--his hot-tempered, short fused Max--had handled without losing her cool.

"Ah, hell," he said, letting his head fall to the desk with a bang. She was going to kill him.

At that moment, Mole came in, unslinging his shotgun from his back. He took one look at Alec and stopped, chewing on his cigar thoughtfully. Looking to Wil, he asked, "What's going on?"

"Alec's told Flanagan to go fuck himself," Wil said cheerfully.

Mole turned back to Alec, surprised. It took a lot to shake their SIC's control. "Really?"

Alec straightened, his expression pained. "Pretty much."

Mole nodded his approval. "Cool," he said. He chambered a round in his shotgun, then flipped it up to his shoulder. "Let me know when the shooting starts," he added, and walked away.

Alec reached up to massage his temples. He could feel a headache coming on. "Get Flanagan back on the horn."

* * *

It was late.

The sun had set long ago. They'd done a full day of reconnaissance, and everything looked good. The rest of the crew was crammed into the back of the van, catching some much needed shuteye before the mission tomorrow. She'd offered to take first watch, since there was no way she'd be going to sleep anytime soon anyway. Shark DNA aside, she had too much on her mind to sleep.

She'd really screwed up this time.

_No one's keepin' you here. You wanna leave, leave._ She kept hearing it in her head, over and over, and each time it sounded worse. Each time, it made her feel more and more like the villain of her own life story.

She'd been so angry and hurt by the things he had said, she'd slapped back at him without thinking. She'd wanted to hurt him like he'd hurt her, and, from the look in his eyes, she had more than succeeded. There'd been anger on the surface, but beneath it, she had seen the hurt. The betrayal.

For a split second, she'd thought that he might actually take her up on it. Walk out the door and never look back.

But that wasn't the worst part of it. The worst part, she knew, was that if it had been Alec that had said those words, _Alec _who had told _her_ to leave if she wanted, there was a good chance she would have let her stubborn pride march her right out the door.

Max's eyes burned as she felt tears welling up, threatening to fall. When her lower lip began to tremble as well, she started to panic. She couldn't break down. Not now. Not _here_. Grasping for a lifeline, she quickly dug her cell phone out of her pocket.

She held down a number to speed dial. As the phone rang, she was plagued by second thoughts, and her thumb inched toward the disconnect button. Before she could hang up, a groggy yet slightly panicked voice spoke up from the other end.

_Max. Did something happen? Are you okay?_

Max closed her eyes in relief at the sound of the voice, so familiar to her. Her voice quavered as she answered. "Hey, Cin."

_Are you _okay_?_ Original Cindy's voice repeated, more alert and insistent.

She wanted to answer yes, wished that the answer _was_ yes, but the single tear that escaped to roll down her cheek told her otherwise. "No," Max replied, reaching up to brush the tear away.

_I'll be there in fifteen._

Max heard what sounded like covers being thrown back and a sleepy, murmured protest in the background. It made Max smile a little. Even though they'd kind of been on the outs, Cindy was still willing to drop everything, including the shorty currently sharing her bed, to rush to her side.

"Wait," Max called into the phone. "It's not like that."

_Girl, it three in the mornin'. Original Cindy's brain is non-functional at three in the mornin'. You best tell me what it _is _like, 'cause you're startin' to freak a sista out._

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called so late."

_Max, I swear, I will smack you right through this phone._

"Relax, okay? No one's dying. No bullet holes or gushing blood. I promise. I'm workin' a job, actually."

_So you're okay?_

Now _there_ was a loaded question if she ever heard one. She sniffed and wiped away another tear that had escaped. "Depends on how you define okay."

_What did he do? _Cindy immediately shot back. She assumed--correctly, of course--that whatever it was that made Max call her at three in the morning would have something to do with Alec. _You need someone to lay the smackdown on his genetically-engineered ass, say the word. I'm your girl._

Max smiled at the thought of Cindy kicking Alec's ass. Truth was, he'd probably let her. "Thanks, but I don't need you to kick his ass. It's my fault as much as his."

_Girl, it _always_ a man's fault._

Max laughed half-heartedly. "I would love to agree with you, but not this time." She walked over to the edge of the clearing, pulling her coat tighter around her to combat the chill. "I've been so messed up lately, Cin. Half the time, I feel like I don't know which way is up." She laughed bitterly. "Not exactly a newsflash, I know."

_Don' hafta tell me twice. _There was a pause, as both of them fall silent. Then Cindy added, _So you ready to get yo' head on straight, then?_

"Yeah. I guess I am."

_Good. Why dontcha start by tellin' me what happen wit' yo' boy._

Max reached up to massage the back of her neck, which was tight with tension. "We had a fight."

Cindy snorted._ Tell me somethin' I don' know._

"It was serious, this time. Go-our-separate-ways kind of serious."

_Spill._

"I was only lookin' out for him, and, yeah, maybe I took it a bit too far. He called me on it, and … I guess I felt like he blindsided me, you know? He said some things, so I said some things…."

_Mmmhmm_.

"I was so mad and hurt; I didn't think, just reacted. I… I told him to leave, if he wanted. If he hadn't backed down…" Max closed her eyes as she imagined just that. "…I don't know what I would've done. "

_But it didn't happen, now, did it? Alec still yo' boy, right? And that's what's important. No sense in worrying the what-ifs. No sense in worrying the past, neither, since you can't change it. What we need to do is figure out is why you flippin' over every little thing. I mean, I know you got a temper, girl, but _damn_. You been seriously off da hook lately, even for you._

"I know! I know, dammit! That's the big fucking problem!"

_See? Exhibit A, right there._

Max spun and began to pace. "There's got to be something wrong with me. Some weird chemical brain thingy that Manticore screwed up--like the tryptophan dealio all over again, but instead of getting seizures, I turn into an overemotional bitch."

_So, like… you got transgenic PMS?_

Max bust out laughing, then quickly covered her mouth, thinking of her sleeping brethren in the van. "Let's hope it's that simple. Be kind of hard to find a Manticore doc this late in the game to fix me if I'm broken."

_Boo, you are seriously harshin' Original Cindy's positive outlook on life. _

Max grimaced. "Sorry."

_You should be. Now, what I want you to do is go see that doctor of yours soon you get back. Have her do some tests or x-rays or whateva it is doctors do. Though I got to say, if anyone's got transgenic PMS, it's Vash. That woman is downright scary. _

"Sounds like a plan," Max replied, feeling some of the tension drain from her shoulders. Talking to Original Cindy was almost as good as a massage.

_Meantime, why don't you call yo' boy? _Max's silence was louder than words, and Cindy understood it perfectly. _You know you'll feel better if you do, _she added, hoping that her friend would listen.

Max stared off into the distance, still silent. If only it were that simple.

_Take care of yo'self, boo._

"I will. And sorry I woke you."

_Apologize to Normal. He the one gon' be pissed when Original Cindy don't show up for work tomorrow. _

"Will do."

Max pressed the disconnect button. Her thumb moved across the phone to hover over the number that would speed dial Alec.

She wanted to call him. She really did, even if it was only to hear the sound of his voice. Even if she had no idea what to say to make things right between them. Even if it was only to tell him that she loved him. She hadn't said the words before she left, hadn't even given him a simple kiss goodbye, and she regretted it.

She wanted to call… but thought of a dozen reasons not to.

* * *

"No, not that one! _That_ one! Turn it to the left. Your _other_ left, stupid!"

"We _are_ turning it to the left!" Dalton shot back at Digger, the large, mole-like transhuman yelling at him. Digger was in charge of TC's water and sewer system. He had a natural affinity for the tunnels and a mind geared toward logic and engineering, so he'd been the obvious choice for the job.

Dalton was currently dripping with a cold sweat and covered in grime. He was lying on top of a pipe, legs wrapped around it to keep him from slipping as he and Oscar struggled with the valve Digger wanted them to shut off. Opposite him, Oscar held a similar position on the pipe, on the other side of the valve, equally sweaty and dirty. Even with the two of them, the rusty thing wouldn't budge.

As they worked, the X6s' heads kept smacking into the tunnel ceiling, since there wasn't much clearance between it and the top of the pipe. Dalton's sweaty hand slipped and scraped against the rusty wheel, making him swear loudly.

"Goddammit! Why do _we_ have do this, anyway?" the blonde X6 griped, the stubborn valve they'd been fighting with for the past twenty minutes making him angry and tired. The question had been directed at Alec, who was also sweating profusely as he, Digger, and two other transgenics braced the third, cracked pipe they were there to fix.

Alec had become an impromptu plumber partly because he needed something to do, but mainly because he was _persona non grata_ in Command after shorting out Dix's surveillance monitors. He figured he should get as far away from the pissed off transhuman as possible--at least until the monitors were fixed--and this was as good a spot as any.

Punishing a certain pair of X6s for skipping his class yesterday was a side benefit.

Alec grunted as he shifted his grip on the pipe, mentally cursing it as water periodically dripped down on his face. "One, you guys're smaller and can fit into areas we can't; two, no one ditches _my_ class and gets away with it; and three, I don't need a reason, 'cause I'm the boss of you, so shut up and get back to work."

Across from Dalton, Oscar let out a string of curses as his head wacked against the ceiling for the tenth time. His wet brown hair hanging down in his eyes, the X6 fixed his friend with a miserable glare.

"Hey, don't look at _me_!" Dalton said. "It was _your_ bright idea, this time."

"Will you two shut up and just close the damn valve!" Alec yelled up at them. He should've known this job wouldn't go as planned. Everything else in his life had turned into a big disaster. Why should this be any different?

Right at that moment, water began spraying from the crack in a thin fan. "Left!" Digger yelled out again as he and the others struggle to maintain their hold on the increasingly slippery pipe.

"His left or my left?!" Oscar yelled back, too late, as he and Dalton tugged on the stubborn valve.

With a screech of metal, the valve suddenly spun completely free of its housing. Instead of closing it the rest of the way, they had spun it wide open. The force of the water rushing through caused the crack to split wide open, gushing stagnant, slimy water all over a group of already tired and irritated transgenics.

Everyone was yelling, water was spraying, and Dalton and Oscar were frantically struggling to get the wheel that turned the valve back in place. By the time they were able to get it shut off, everyone down below, including one very pissed off SIC, was soaked by the foul-smelling mess.

Dalton and Oscar remained perched above on the pipe, wide-eyed and relatively untouched by the slimy water. Dalton grimaced as he thought about the amount of trouble they were in.

"Guess it was the other left."

* * *

South of Yakima, the sun climbed in the sky, providing little warmth from the winter chill.

In the back of the van, Max slept fitfully, her dreams haunted by a pair of hazel-green eyes.

* * *

Alec stood under the spray of the shower, arms braced against the cracked tile wall, head bowed. The water had long run cold, causing goosebumps to rise on his flesh, but he didn't care. He stank. He'd soaped up and rinsed off four times, but he couldn't get rid of the smell of the rank slime that had covered him head to toe.

It was a lost cause. With a sigh, Alec gave up and turned off the water.

As he toweled himself off, he found his thoughts drifting to Max. The scent of her still lingered on the towel--female, but not feminine, much like Max herself. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

He wished that she were there beside him. He would tell her what had happened down in the tunnel, turning it into an adventure instead of the disaster it was. He would embellish the tale outlandishly, making himself the hero of the tale instead of some poor schmuck who ended up covered in slime.

With Max, he'd be able to laugh it all off and quickly forget that it had ever happened. Without Max, he was just cold, tired, and smelly.

He walked toward the bedroom and thought about calling her, but he knew he couldn't. She was on a mission; it was no time for personal conversations.

It was a copout, and he knew it. He didn't call her because he needed more time. He had to figure out how to fix things between them. He'd pushed too hard, too fast, and she'd pushed back.

_Nobody's keepin' you here. You wanna leave, leave._

Those words still hurt.

He leaned heavily against the dresser and stared at his own reflection, his face split by a crack in the mirror. His own eyes stared back at him, accusing. They refused to let him ignore the truth.

Max had hurt him… but only about as much as he had hurt her when he'd accused her of turning him into a prisoner. He'd had a full-on mad going, and he thought he'd been making a point. He had, but it wasn't quite the one he'd intended.

Instead of making her see the error of her ways, he'd done the worst thing he could've possibly done. He'd compared her to Manticore.

He was a complete asshole.

As he bowed his head in shame, his eyes fell on the small pouch he'd left sitting on top of the dresser that morning. A small pouch holding two white gold rings.

Alec had thought he couldn't be any more miserable than he already was. He was wrong.

* * *

"How's it look?"

"Everything's quiet. Looks clear," replied Brand's deep voice to Max's question.

Behind her, Kel's gum cracked. "Gimme another second… there. Signals're jammed for a five mile radius. We can't call out, but they can't either, so we don't have to worry about the cavalry, case things go south. I hacked into the local wireless providers' sites and posted a notice saying a cell tower was down. We should have at least an hour or two window before someone figures out it's not the tower and comes looking."

"I knew there had to be a reason we brought you along," teased Nila, ruffling Kel's hair. Frowning, he swatted her hand away.

Max's eyes narrowed as she stared down at the meeting site. Brand was right, there was nothing there. Just one lone man--their contact, from the look of him--and a scraggly German Shepherd that looked hungry for its next meal.

Max tried to tell herself that this was going to be cake--in and out, wham, bam, thank you ma'am. Problem was, she wasn't a glass-half-full kind of girl.

Whatever. If anything happened, they'd deal. It was what they were good at.

"Let's do this thing."

* * *

Alec climbed the steps to Max's high place, his feet heavy. It seemed to take longer than usual, though he knew that was just his tired muscles talking. He stepped out onto the roof, a small shiver running through him as a gust of wind caught him.

He climbed onto the ledge and sat in the same spot Max would've sat. She sat there so often, he imagined the warmth of her body haunted the stone. It was a strangely comforting thought.

For once, the sky was clear. It probably wouldn't last long. As he watched the sun dip low in the sky, he liked to think that she would stop, if just for a moment, and watch it too.

* * *

They approached from the west on foot, the setting sun casting long shadows ahead of them. Five of them, walking in such smooth rhythm that they seemed connected: Max, Brand, Nila, Kai, and Jin. You wouldn't know it to look at them, but every one of them save Max was armed to the teeth. Kel remained with the van, monitoring the situation and ready to provide backup, if needed.

They came to a halt beside the doors of the storage shed, which were now open to reveal the truck that held the equipment they'd come to purchase. A middle-aged man--sporting an old army jacket, a mean five-o'clock shadow, and a small spare tire around his waist--sat on the back bumper of the truck, smoking a cigarette. The dog began barking and snarling at them, straining at the leash that had been secured to the truck.

The man smiled thinly, probably pleased with what he thought was an intimidation tactic. The smile fell from his face when Kai lifted his upper lip and snarled back, sending the dog scurrying underneath the truck with his tail in between his legs.

"Damn dog," the man cursed, throwing down his cigarette in disgust.

* * *

Alec's head tilted as he picked up a sound behind him, muscles tensing as his body immediately went into alert mode. A second later, he relaxed. He would recognize that heavy, shuffling gate anywhere.

"Hey, Josh," Alec said, turning as the large transhuman came up beside him.

"Alec," Joshua said, nodding his acknowledgement. Then his nose wrinkled, and he took a step back. He tried to school his face to neutral so he wouldn't hurt Alec's feelings, but Joshua hadn't been trained in the fine art of deception as Alec had been.

The X5 smiled wryly. "Go ahead. You can say it."

Joshua gave up the pretense and covered his nose with his sleeve. "Alec smell."

Alec nodded resignedly. "Remind me later there are a pair of Sixes I have to kill."

* * *

"Nelson, right?" Max asked, taking a step forward to identify herself as leader of the group.

"That's what you can call me," Nelson replied, eyeing her up and down in a way that made her want to kick his ass. He was lucky she was trying to be a mostly law-abiding citizen these days, or she just might consider Nila's request to take the stuff and to hell with the deal.

"Fine," Max said, using the same forced smile and calm voice she used when talking to Colonel Flanagan, reporters, and the occasional politician. "I'm Max."

Nelson eyed her again, this time with a lot more skepticism. "Thought you'd be a guy."

Max's smile faltered slightly. "I get that a lot. How 'bout we skip the small talk and get down to business?"

Nelson shrugged. "Fine by me."

* * *

Joshua climbed onto the ledge and sat beside Alec, leaving a little bit extra distance between them and wisely choosing to sit upwind.

"You don't have to stay, you know," Alec said, actually hoping that Joshua wouldn't take him up on it. He'd thought he'd come up to the roof to be alone, but he'd never been very good at keeping his own company.

Joshua chuffed and shook his head. "Alec need to talk."

"How do you always know when I need to talk?"

"Psychic," Joshua replied, deadpan.

Alec laughed. "I wouldn't put it past you, man." He shook his head, still chuckling, but his humor quickly drained away. "So, you know what's buggin' me, then."

"Max."

"Guess you don't have to be psychic to figure out that one." Alec looked out over Terminal City, wondering what Max saw in the view. It was just a bunch of rundown buildings surrounded by high fences. But it was home, so he guessed that was what counted. He glanced beside him to look at his friend, who was one of the many people that helped make this rundown place a home. "You heard about the fight?"

Joshua shrugged, grinning apologetically. "Hard not to." He usually didn't listen to gossip, but you couldn't help it when it was all that people were talking about.

"I didn't mean for it to get out of hand. I really didn't. It's just that I'd been putting up with the protect-Alec-at-all-costs shit for so long, and Max had been pissy with me on and off ever since I got back, and I guess things sort of came to a head." The X5 ran a hand through his hair, his movements jerky in his frustration. "Now I've gone and screwed up the only thing in this world that's really important to me."

Joshua put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Not so screwed up it can't be fixed."

"I don't know, Josh. This isn't something that a couple of angry words and make-up sex will fix. How can I ask her..." Alec stopped abruptly, realizing he'd said more than he'd intended.

"Ask what?" Joshua said, tilting his head in puzzlement as he tried to figure out what Alec had been going to say.

Alec chewed on his bottom lip, determined to keep his mouth shut, but Joshua was staring at him with those big doggie eyes of his, unthreatening yet strangely relentless. There was no way Joshua would let him slide on this one. With a heavy sigh, Alec unzipped his coat slightly, reached into an inner pocket, and pulled out the small pouch. Holding his breath, he dumped the contents into his hand, then slowly opened his palm so Joshua could see.

Joshua leaned in, closely examining the rings in Alec's palm. Then significance of the gleaming circlets hit him, and he straightened suddenly. "Oh."

"Yeah," the X5 said with a depressed sigh.

Joshua looked at the rings, then at Alec, who looked completely miserable. "Heavy shit."

Alec snorted. "You're tellin' me."

Over the next half hour, Alec told Joshua everything. He poured his heart out, telling his friend about his time away from Max, about gathering the courage to buy the rings, and about the reasons why, after all this time, they were still in his pocket.

* * *

They'd hashed and rehashed terms until they'd finally reached an agreement. Satisfied, Max closed the lid on the case holding the military-grade surveillance equipment they were after. "We got a deal?" she asked, turning toward Nelson.

Nelson hesitated, then held up his hand to stop her. "About that… "

* * *

"So what should I do?" Alec asked after he had finished baring his soul. He'd thought that talking about it would help, but he felt like he was more tied up in knots then before.

"What Alec _want_ to do?" Joshua asked.

The X5's fist closed tightly over the rings in his hand. "I want to put this ring on Max's finger."

"Then do it," the transhuman replied simply.

* * *

Max jerked as a stinging pain lanced through the side of her neck.

"The hell?" Max said, automatically reaching up to feel the spot. Her fingers brushed against something hard. She grasped it and pulled, the action sending a sharp pain shooting through her. Instead of easing, the pain intensified, running like burning fire down her neck and into her arms and chest. She lowered her now shaking hand and held the item out in front of her.

A tranquilizer dart, held by fingertips tinged red with her own blood.

"Sorry," Nelson shrugged. "Had a better offer."

Max's heart beat once. Twice. Then all hell broke loose.

* * *

"It's not that easy, Josh."

"Yes. It is." For some reason, Max and Alec always insisted on making things complicated. Neither of them could see how uncomplicated it really was. Max loved Alec, and Alec loved Max. What could be simpler than that?

Alec swallowed hard, for once letting Joshua see how scared he really was. "What if she says no?"

"Max says no, can't put ring on finger. Alec not ask, still can't put ring on finger. Same difference."

"I guess it is."

* * *

Bullets were flying. Figures in black assault gear slid in and out of her vision, but she couldn't seem to track them. She could hear someone yelling her name--Brand, maybe--but it sounded as if it were coming from the end of a long tunnel. Closer, much closer, was the erratic pounding that she soon realized was her own heart.

She wanted to run, but her feet were rooted into the pavement. All she could do was stand there, staring with morbid fascination as the tranquilizer dart slipped from her hands, falling in slow motion to the ground.

* * *

Alec shook his head and gave Joshua a crooked grin. "Would you think less of me if I told you I was scared?"

"Would think less of Alec if he _wasn't _scared. Only scared because Max is what matters most."

* * *

She felt the unmistakable pressure of a gun at her back. Struggling to even breathe, she tried to raise her hands, but, at first, they wouldn't obey. Finally, they began to move, arms shaking as she raised her hands in surrender, her head pounding as bad as her heart.

* * *

Alec ducked his head, embarrassed as much by baring his emotions as he was by admitting that he was scared. What the hell. Might as well jump in with both feet.

"I love her, Joshua. More than I thought was even possible."

"Think Max feels the same?" Joshua knew she did, but he wanted Alec to acknowledge it.

Alec thought about everything that had happened between them, not just the other day but since the day they had met. All the things they have overcome--the prejudices, the lies, the misunderstandings.

"I'd stake my life on it."

Joshua smiled. His work here was done. "Then hard part is over. Now, all Alec need is Max."

* * *

Max cried out as her arms were yanked roughly behind her back. A second later, she felt the biting touch of cold metal as handcuffs were slapped over her wrists.

* * *

"Feel better?"

"Yeah. I think I do," Alec replied, smiling slightly. He felt like things were finally looking up. Max would come back, and they would fix things between them. He was sure of it. Once Max came back, things would be better.

His smile faded, twisting into an irritated frown. "Now all I've got to do is to figure out what to do with myself until she gets back."

"Can Joshua make a suggestion?"

"Shoot."

The big transhuman wrinkled his nose dramatically. "Take shower again. Two, maybe three times."

Alec ducked his head, a chagrinned smile on his face. "Thanks, man."

They sat in companionable silence until the sun sank beyond the horizon. Then Alec blinked as something delicate brushed against his eyelashes. He looked up, breaking into a broad smile as the last of the heaviness over his heart lifted.

"Hey. It's snowing."

* * *

"On your knees!"

A booted foot swiped across the back of her legs, causing them to buckle and send her crashing to her knees. Pain flared through her as bone met concrete. She barely had time to suck in a breath before that boot planted itself against her back and shoved, sending her tumbling face first toward the pavement. With her hands cuffed behind her back, she had no way to catch herself. She managed to turn her head just enough to avoid breaking her nose; instead, the rough blacktop scraped up the side of her face.

She wanted to move, react, do something, anything, but her body was stuck in slow motion. Even her blood struggled to move through her veins as her heart stuttered with erratic beats. She could see the rest of her crew now--on their knees, lined up beside her, similarly affected. Whatever they had hit them with was strong enough to slow down a transgenic .

These were no ordinary mercenaries.

A hand fisted in her hair and yanked her back to a sitting position, pulling her head back hard so that she was forced to look up. She felt like a rag doll in the hands of a careless child, yanked about without a care to the damage caused.

Her vision swam. As it began to clear, she saw the outline of a man. He loomed above her, an ominous shape that slowly came into focus as her eyes traveled up--dark blue suit, striped tie, gray trench coat. When she reached his face, her vision came into stark focus, one feature at a time. Shark-like, hungry smile. Angular nose, broken sometime in the past. Eyes, glittering with triumph. Then all of the features melded together, becoming whole.

Her drugged, already unsteady heart to stumbled to a halt.

White. It was Ames White.

"Hello, 452."

His smile widened, and in that moment, Max knew with absolute certainty that she would never see Alec again.

* * *

A/N: I hope everyone's prepared to do a lot of cliffhanging with this one. I will try very hard to get the next chapter out in a reasonable amount of time.


	4. Ch 3: Shattered World

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: Because I was so late with the last chapter, I busted my ass to get this one finished in a timely fashion. Fortunately, the muse was cooperating. Let's hope the trend continues.

Warning: The violence level is going to ratchet up to a higher level from this point on.

* * *

Chapter 3: Shattered World

Alec walked back to the apartment he shared with Max with a smile on his face and a much lighter heart. He took his time, enjoying the soft hush the snow made as it fell, the way it quieted everything down until the sounds of the city almost disappeared. It made him wish once more that Max was by his side.

Maxie rarely put the leadership thing on pause to enjoy the simple things in life. She was too wrapped up in being the leader everyone needed her to be--dedication and duty to a fault, his Max. It would've been nice to convince her to set the weight of their transgenic world aside, if only for a little while, to take a walk with him in the snow.

There would still be time. Max was due back tomorrow, and Joshua was certain that they hadn't seen the last of the snow this winter. The way those clouds had looked, they might have another snowfall before the week was out.

The next time it snowed, he'd make sure they both set leadership aside so they could take that walk together. The next time it snowed, he thought he might be able to find the courage to slip that ring on her finger.

Alec slowed to a stop in the center of the Quad, the smile on his face turning into a full-fledged grin. Feeling like a kid again--or, rather, the kid he had never been allowed to be--he tilted his head back and stuck out his tongue to catch falling snowflakes.

A laugh bubbled up from inside of him. A couple of years ago, he never would've dreamed that he'd be standing out in the snow, catching snowflakes on his tongue as he waited for the woman he loved to come home.

Crazy, how much life had changed.

* * *

Max wasn't sure how much time had passed. Minutes. Hours, for all she knew. She couldn't think. Her head felt like it had been run over by a freight train. The pain in her skull was so intense, she almost wished that someone would put a bullet in it and put her out of her misery. To make matters worse, someone kept spinning the world on her. She'd already thrown up twice.

She was moving before she even realized that the goons in black were dragging her. She struggled to make her eyes to focus, tried to ignore the pain, because if she didn't, she was screwed. They were all screwed, sideways.

Something loomed in her peripheral vision. The storage shed. They were taking her inside the storage shed. That was probably a bad thing.

As they dragged her to the threshold, the light coming from inside the shed seared her eyeballs and spiked into her brain. She clenched them shut and fought down the nausea rising in her throat.

She heard someone start up the truck as a dog barked wildly. She'd forgotten about the dog. There was a yelp of pain followed by the scrabbling of claws, and the animal brushed past her as it bolted toward freedom. Smart dog. Then she heard gravel crunching as the truck was backed out of the shed.

Underneath all of this was the sound of an argument. Nelson, or whatever his name really was, arguing with someone. Something about money, a deal.

The bastard had sold them out.

"Dump the truck where it won't be found for a while." That was White. No mistaking _that_ voice.

"Wait just a goddamn minute! That wasn't part of the deal."

"I think this is the part where I say, 'I am altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it any further.'"

'Huh?"

"Doesn't anyone watch the classics anymore?"

"Look, White..."

Max heard White heave an exasperated sigh. "I don't have time for this. Zimmerman?"

"Sir." A clipped response. Strong, female.

"Please see to our… _friend_."

"Right away, sir."

Max knew what was coming, even if that idiot Nelson didn't. Never make a deal with the devil.

It wasn't long before she heard the muffled sound of two bullets thudding into something solid. She couldn't manage to muster up enough emotion to feel sorry for him. Then the world tilted and she was moving again.

She stumbled over her feet, unable to control her own body. Whoever was dragging her finally let her fall in a heap on the ground. The rag doll, discarded.

She needed a moment, just a moment to pull herself together, but they wouldn't even give her that. Someone grabbed her arm and yanked, pulling her until she was back on her knees.

Nila's vehement and somewhat slurred curse from off to her right reminded her that she wasn't in this alone. Nila, Brand, Kai, and Jin--she'd drag them down with her, all because White had a sudden desire to get his vengeance on.

Kel would've called for backup by now. He would've seen what had happened and called for help. She needed to hang on for a little while longer, just a couple of minutes to get her brain working enough so she could stall…

"I know what you're thinking."

No time. No fucking time.

Max's eyelids fluttered. When she managed to open them enough that she could see, she wished that she hadn't. Ames White was standing over her with his hands in his pockets and a smug look on his face. There were several things that she would've liked to have said to him in that moment, but she couldn't speak. Her tongue felt thick and swollen, and it stuck to the roof her mouth like plaster.

"You're thinking," White continued, squatting down until he was eye level with her, "that your young friend up on the ridge is calling the cavalry as we speak, and all you need to do is hold out until your friends come riding to the rescue."

Max blinked, slow, as it took a moment for her fuzzy brain to process this information.

_He's bluffing. Please, let him be bluffing._

If White was bluffing, then he was one hell of a poker player. His face gave nothing away. He turned his head toward one of his men and gave a slight nod--some kind of signal.

Max jerked back as a body was thrown down in between her and White. Boyish face. Sandy blonde hair, short and curly. Blue-gray eyes that stared at her, accusing even in death, as blood slowly pooled under his body from a gaping exit wound in his throat. He'd been shot from behind.

Kel.

White reached forward to push a strand of hair out of her eyes, the move in no way sexual yet repulsively intimate. The grin was still on his face, but his eyes were cold. "Can't have anyone interrupting our party, now can we?"

He was dead. Kel--their last hope--was dead.

White's face doubled, then tripled, continuing to multiply until it became a blur. Then Max's eyes rolled up into her head and she surrendered to darkness.

* * *

She awoke with a jerk, sputtering as a bucket of ice cold water hit her face.

"Rise and shine, 452."

"Sonofabitch," Max groaned as she forced her eyes to open.

The drugs had worn off enough so that the room was no longer spinning, but some sadistic bastard was still taking a jackhammer to her head, and the rest of her body felt like it was encased in lead.

She could have tried to fight it, but it was a lost cause. She could tell that too much of the drug was still in her system. She would be better off conserving her strength until the right opportunity presented itself.

She managed to roll onto her side and saw that Kel's body had been tossed against the far wall, discarded like so much trash. The Familiars hadn't even bothered to close his eyes.

When she shifted her gaze to her right, she saw that White had the others lined up and on their knees again; the man had to be on some kind of power trip thing. Each of them swayed slightly as if the room kept tilting on them. Looked like they weren't fairing any better under the drug than she was.

They were all bruised and bloody. Jin's one arm was bent at an unnatural angle. Aside from being beat to hell, Kai and Nila didn't seem to have any major injuries. Brand appeared to have taken the most damage.

His one eye was a bloody mess and horribly swollen. It looked like his eye socket and cheekbone had been shattered. If--_when_, she told herself, _when_--they made it out of this, he'd probably lose the eye. He was hunched over, most likely trying to protect ribs that were broken. His one shoulder looked funny; it was hard to tell with his hands cuffed behind his back, but his arm had to be dislocated.

Seeing him that way made flashes of the fight came back to her, things that her scrambled brain hadn't been able to process at the time. Brand had tried to protect her. White's men had made him pay for it.

A sudden flash in her peripheral vision made her shift her eyes to the left, and her head pounded in protest. White had slipped off his trench coat. His suit jacket soon followed. Max managed a bitter laugh as she struggled to push herself up without the use of her hands.

"Gonna rough me up, now, Ames?"

This made White pause and give her a considering look. Then the corner of his mouth turned up in a wry smile. "That was my original thought, yes. But why do things the hard way? You could make this easier on both of us by telling me what I want to know."

"If there's one thing I've never been…" Max said, pausing a moment to catch her breath and flip the wet hair out of her eyes, "it's easy."

White's smile turned sour. "Cute. You can drop the tough girl act, 452. It won't do you any good."

"I dunno. Got me this far."

"Enough of this. Get her up," White said, motioning to one of his men. "I can't keep talking to her like this. I'll get a crick in the neck."

Max yelped as someone grabbed her by the upper arms and yanked, causing her shoulders to scream in their sockets. The other transgenics made protesting noises, but they were quickly silenced by the Familiars guarding them. Max's stomach heaved, and she actually wished she had something left in it to throw up, because she would've gladly lost her lunch right there on Ames White's shoes.

White stepped in until they were only inches apart. He looked into her eyes, and she could see that there would be no stalling. White wanted something from her, and he didn't appear to be in the mood to wait.

"I know," White said, his voice low and quiet and all the more menacing for it, "that it won't be long before your friends come looking for you. Before _494_ comes looking. As much as I'd like to get reacquainted with that particular individual, I'm afraid I don't have the time, so let's cut to the chase, shall we?" He reached forward and grabbed the edges of Max's jacket, pulling her a little closer. "Where is my son?"

Max blinked, drawing her head back in surprise. "What?" She hadn't been expecting that. She was surprised he even cared. Ames didn't really strike her as Father of the Year material.

"Did I stutter? My son, 452. I want my son."

"I don't know where he is," Max replied. It wasn't a lie. Logan had worked his Eyes Only mojo to handle the whole Ray situation. She'd stayed out of it. The kid was safe, and that was all she figured she needed to know.

White shook his head at her. "Why don't I believe you?"

"How 'bout 'cause you're a self-righteous, egotistical asshole?"

One second, White was smiling that sick, shark-like smile at her. The next, she was doubling over, buckling from the fist he had slammed into her stomach. The Familiar holding her let go, and she fell to her knees, retching.

"Leave her alone!" Brand yelled, then cried out in pain as a Familiar clamped a hand down on his dislocated shoulder.

White stared down at her, the hands at his sides clenched into fists. "Tell me what I want to know."

Breathing hard and unable to straighten up to look at him, Max shook her head, the ends of her hair brushing the floor, leaving wet trails on the concrete. "He's better off without you."

A pair of shiny wingtips came into her vision, and she braced herself as best she could for another assault. White squatted down, placing his hands on either side of her head. She thought for a moment that he was going to snap her neck and be done with it, but instead he tilted her head back gently, pushing the hair out of her eyes so he could look at her face.

He had been about to say something, but he stopped and reconsidered. He turned his head and looked at the other transgenics, all lined up like bloodied ducks in a row. A slow smile came across his face, and when he turned back to Max, there was a glint in his eyes that she didn't like.

"Are you willing to bet their lives on that?" he said quietly, with a small nod toward her bound brethren.

Max's heart began to pound in earnest. "I don't know where his is."

White released her and stood up, backing away from her. "Really," he said in the same way he would've said _bullshit_. Then he turned and walked down the line, heading toward Jin at the end.

"I don't know!" Maxed repeated, her voice rising in panic. She tried to get up, but the Familiar behind her clamped a hand on her shoulder and shoved her back down. "I swear to God, White, I don't know where Ray is." _Oh God, Oh God, please don't. _

White's lips became a thin line. "Seems to me like you're having a little problem remembering."

Max shook her head, and the room started spinning again. "Don't do this."

White stopped in front of Jin, staring down at the dark-haired transgenic. Jin returned the stare, his jaw clenched tight. If he could face the worst Manticore had to offer, he could face this.

White turned his head, raising an eyebrow at Max. "Let's see if I can jog your memory."

"No, _wait!_" Max yelled, struggling as best she could against the hand holding her down, but it didn't do any good. Without any fanfare, White pulled his gun and fired a bullet into Jin's head.

The four transgenics that were still breathing all jerked at the sound of White's un-silenced gun. All four looked on in shock as Jin's body crumpled to the ground. Kai's jaw began to quiver, then a low moan rumbled in the back of his throat. Feeling like he had been ripped in two, Kai threw back his head and let out a howl of rage over his fallen twin.

Blood began to pool on the concrete under Jin's head. It looked almost too red to be real, like any second some guy with a clack board was going to come in and yell _Cut!_, and Jin would sit up and have a laugh over his very convincing death scene.

But the scene didn't end.

White took a deliberate step back from the spreading pool. There was no need to mess up a perfectly good pair of shoes.

Max's face was red with rage. Her blood was pumping, and adrenalin was flooding through her system. "Dammit, White, I told you, I don't know anything! I wasn't involved in the rest of it. You didn't have to kill him!"

Ames held the gun down at his side. "Logan Cale was involved."

Max clamped her jaw shut. Even though she and Logan weren't on the best of terms--or any terms, these days--she couldn't sell him out. "I don't know anything."

"So you didn't happen to overhear anything about where he sent my son? He didn't let something slip while whispering sweet nothings in your ear?"

"No."

White tilted his head at her. "Are you sure?"

Before Max had a chance to blink, White fired two rounds in quick succession. Kai and Nila fell to the floor.

Angry tears began to roll down Max's face. The fingers of the hand holding her down dug painfully into her shoulder as she struggled. "You bastard!"

"Careful, 452. That's my mother you're talking about."

"I'm going to fucking kill you, you sonofabitch!"

"Such language," White said, scolding. "I really don't think that's appropriate talk for a young lady."

He paced for a minute, thinking. 452 was being predictably stubborn, which secretly pleased him. What fun would it have been if she'd told him where Ray was right off the bat? She'd been a thorn in his side too long for him to lose the opportunity for a little payback. Still, time was short. Someone would eventually come looking, and he wanted to be long gone before that happened.

There had to be a way to break her.

White stopped and turned back toward Max. "It seems that this isn't working. How about we try a new tactic?" he said, then shot Brand in the leg.

"Stop it!" Max yelled, struggling in earnest now. The adrenalin in her system was beginning to counteract the drug.

"Don't tell him anything, Max," Brand hissed through clenched teeth.

"What a brave soldier." White looked at Max expectantly. "Still don't remember anything?"

"Just stop," she cried, shaking her head.

"No? That's too bad," White said, then shot Brand in the gut. The X5 grunted in pain, but refused to cry out. White might try to use him as a weapon against Max, but that didn't mean he had to cooperate.

Surrounded by the dead, Max's protests became frantic, almost unintelligible. It didn't really matter, though, because White wasn't listening. The Familiar had his own agenda, and mercy was definitely not on it.

White raised his gun again, ready to go for the _coup de grâce_. Before he could pull the trigger, Max surged to her feet, lunging toward him.

The affects of the drug had worn off, but not enough. She was still too sluggish. She crashed into White, but she didn't have enough momentum to take him down. It threw off his aim, and instead of shooting Brand in the head, the bullet buried itself high in his chest, near the heart. Brand swayed for a moment, his face blank, before he crumpled to the ground to join his fallen brethren.

Two other Familiars rushed forward and yanked Max away from White. One of them caught her with a swiping kick to the knee; it flared with pain as her MCL gave way. She crashed to the ground, and someone grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. A figure loomed in her vision, but all she saw was the fist that was about to plant itself in her face. Whoever it was got in a couple of good blows before she heard White's voice yell out, "Enough!"

The Familiars backed away, giving her a clear view of White. His goons must've hit her pretty hard, because at first she saw two of him. There was a look of extreme irritation on his face. As he reached up to straighten his tie, the two Whites merged back into one.

Seething with tightly controlled anger, White ejected the clip from his gun and closely inspected it, checking the number of rounds. "I must say, I'm very disappointed in you. I had thought that you cared about your fellow transgenics more than that. I guess I was wrong."

With a snap, White slapped the cartridge back into the gun, then chambered a round. He pointed the gun at Max's head.

"One last chance, 452. Tell me where my son is, or I will put a bullet in that pretty little head of yours."

Max's throat was constricted with grief. Even if she had known where Ray was, even if she had been willing to give up a child to a murderer in order to save herself, she wouldn't have been able to speak the words.

The physical pain she felt was nothing compared to what she felt over the loss of her crew. Five people that had lost their lives because of her, because she'd handpicked them for this mission. Dead because of her, because of what she had done almost two years ago.

A tear ran down her cheek, but for once, she wasn't ashamed of it. It was a tear for Kel. For Kai and Jin, Nila and Brand. It was a tear for Alec and the future they would no longer share. The last goddamn tear she would ever cry.

The Familiar was still waiting for his answer. She would give him one.

Max sucked in a deep breath. She held it, pausing to give him a bloody smile before she spat a mouthful of blood all over the front of Ames White's shirt.

White's face darkened. He should've known the bitch wouldn't cooperate.

"Have it your way," he said, and squeezed the trigger.

When the bullet exploded from the barrel, the sound of it amplified as it bounced around the walls of the storage shed--a violent symphony of death.

Max never flinched.

* * *

With a strangled gasp, Alec sat bolt upright in bed, eyes wide and searching. His hand immediately slipped under the mattress at his side to pull out the SIG P239 he kept there in case of emergency, automatically clicking off the safety and training the gun on the doorway.

He had no idea what woke him from a deep sleep, but better safe than dead. His instincts told him to first consider the possibility of an intruder, but he quickly nixed that explanation. All of his senses told him that no one was there. Besides, there was no way that anyone who didn't belong could get this far into Terminal City unchallenged, so the odds of an intruder were practically nonexistent.

So why was his heart pounding so hard that it physically hurt?

Relaxing his tense muscles, Alec lowered the gun. Grimacing, he rubbed his hand over his heart, feeling its pounding beat through his skin.

It must've been a bad dream. Had to be.

It had been a while since he'd had a bad dream. He used to have nightmares about losing Max, but those has died down after a while. Months of inactivity was boring as hell, but it took the paranoia level down by a good notch or two. He used to have nightmares all the time when he was little, but he'd quickly trained himself not to show any sign. He'd seen what happened to the other kids that woke up screaming. Eventually, he'd been able to train himself not to dream at all while he was at Manticore.

To be on the safe side (and, even though she wasn't there, to prove to Max that he _did_ know how to be cautious on occasion), Alec hopped out of bed and took a quick tour of the apartment, and then the hall. As he suspected, no one was there.

Alec shook his head at himself, clicking the safety back on his gun. It was too late to be up looking for boogeymen in the shadows.

With a yawn, he shuffled back into the bedroom. Thank God tonight would be the last night he would sleep alone. It definitely didn't agree with him.

Letting the gun fall to the floor, he fell face first down onto the bed and into oblivion.

* * *

The truck bed shook as Zimmerman dumped the last of the bodies into the large cooling unit, which was concealed by a false front of wooden shipping crates. It wouldn't do to draw attention to themselves if their cargo started to stink.

She closed the lid with a snap, securing the lock before she lowered the false top that concealed the unit. She hopped down, nodding her thanks as she took the rag White handed her. He had changed his bloodied shirt for a clean one. She grimaced as she wiped transgenics' blood off her hands; she knew exactly how he felt.

"You know what to do," White said, more of a command than a question.

"Yes, sir," she replied with a sharp nod, straightening to attention.

Zimmerman climbed into the cab of the truck, her face determined. She turned the key in the ignition, then waited for the rest of her crew to climb in the back.

They had an important mission, and she was going to personally guarantee that it went off without a hitch.

* * *

Alec ducked barely in time to avoid the missile speeding toward his head. It smacked against the wall behind him, its velocity causing it to explode and shower snow down on him.

He smiled as he reached down to grab more snow for his own missile, yelling out, "You'll have to do better than that, children!"

A flurry of snowballs crashed into the wall and the burned out car he was currently taking refuge behind. None of them hit their well-concealed target, but the "shrapnel" that resulted had him covered in snow.

"How's that for better?!" he heard Dalton call out. He and a crew of Sixes had taken over the Quad and had been waging snow battles of epic proportion all morning long. So far, they had repelled all comers.

Alec looked up at Joshua, who was crouched down beside him behind the car. "You ready to make a move?" he asked, the pockets of his coat as well as both hands now loaded with ammunition.

"Always ready," Joshua shot back; the line made Alec smile.

"Go!" Alec yelled, and sprung out from behind the car, firing two snowballs as he went.

Joshua laid down covering fire while Alec ran across the Quad, blurring toward the cover of an old Dumpster. Before he got there, Kazi and two other Sixes popped out from inside of it and peppered him with snowballs.

Alec grabbed his chest and flopped back dramatically in the snow. Laughing, he waved an arm for lack of a white flag and yelled "I surrender! I surrender!"

Dalton, Oscar, and three more X6s came out from behind the low wall bordering the Quad. "That'll teach you to encroach on our territory!" Kazi cried triumphantly, hopping down from the Dumpster to stand over him, victorious.

"Yeah!" Dalton echoed, stepping up behind her. Looking down at his fallen brother, his face transformed from triumph to mischief. He gave Alec a wink, then reached up and tugged on the collar of Kazi's coat, dumping a load of snow down her back.

Kazi half-screamed, half-laughed, "I'm gonna kill you, Dalton!" and chased after him. The snowball fight then devolved into boys against girls, with the boys taking heavy damage. They may have been stronger on average, but transgenic girls fight dirty.

Suddenly, a hand was offered, and Alec looked up to see Joshua standing over him. Alec grabbed his wrist, and the big transhuman tugged him to his feet. Alec brushed off his coat, then leaned over and scrubbed his hands through his hair to shake off the snow.

A bubbling, girlish laugh drew his attention. Straightening, he saw Dalton on the other side of the Quad, spinning around with Kazi on his back. Both of them were laughing uncontrollably, their cheeks were rosy from cold and exertion.

God, they were so young. Had he and Max ever been that young?

"I wish Max were here," he said to Joshua with a sigh. "She's missing out on all the fun." The temperature was already rising; he was afraid the snow would be gone before she got back.

"Don't worry," Joshua said, patting him on the shoulder. "Will snow again."

"I sure hope so. She's been stressing so much lately. She could use a little down ti… hey!!" Alec yelped, his thought cut off by the handful of snow Joshua dumped down the back of his neck. He turned, but Joshua was already on the run.

"You are dead meat, pal!" Alec shouted, then dove for cover as a snowball whizzed past his ear.

* * *

Later that afternoon, after a hot shower and a change of clothes, Alec found himself pacing near the Communications station in Command.

"Check it again," he said, chewing nervously on the side of his thumbnail.

Max and her team hadn't checked in. The communications blackout should've ended about an hour ago, but they still hadn't checked in.

"I ran a diagnostic," Luke said, his fingers tapping over the keyboard as he brought the results up on screen. "Everything's working within normal parameters."

"I said check it again," Alec snapped. Each tick of the clock brought him closer to panic.

"Okay," Luke said defensively, typing in the command that would run the diagnostic.

"What's up?" Mole asked, coming over to stand beside Luke. He left a good bit of distance between himself and Alec, because the X5 was radiating waves of tension, and experience had taught him that tense X5s could be unpredictable. Especially tense X5s named Alec.

Alec's eyes were glued on the screen, tracking the results of the diagnostic. "Max hasn't checked in."

Mole looked down at Luke for an explanation. Luke shrugged. "They could still be jamming," he said, preferring that explanation to any other. Any other explanation would mean trouble, and he didn't like the idea of trouble. They'd all had enough of it to last two lifetimes.

"Could be," Mole said, nodding, but he had a bad feeling. He kept it to himself, because Alec was clearly on edge, and one wrong word could send him riding to Max's rescue. They needed to be sure there was a problem before they risked exposure trying to save a crew that may not actually need saving.

"I don't like it," Alec snapped, and he turned to go and do God only knew what, but Mole stopped him, grabbing his arm.

"You know, you and Max didn't exactly part on the best of terms," he said quietly. Normally, those words would've been a dig, but he could see that Alec was already upset enough as it was. "Maybe she doesn't want to talk."

Alec stilled. The thought had crossed his mind. Max _had_ been pretty upset, and no one could say that the woman didn't know how to hold a grudge. But then why didn't she have Brand or one of the others check in? No, something was wrong.

Seeing that Alec was not convinced, Mole tightened his hand around the X5's bicep. "She's only a couple of hours overdue, man. We can't jump the gun on this. If Flanagan calls and can't find either of you, we're all fucked."

Alec's face hardened. Mole could see that the man inside of him was battling with the leader. The leader won, for now.

"Two hours," he said, poking Mole in the chest. "Then I go looking."

* * *

Dix frowned. "Not again," he grumbled as he checked the connection wires for the third time. The display didn't change. Camera Fourteen was still out.

"Sonofabitch!"

"Cameras still on the fritz?" Wil asked as he came over to stand behind the transhuman. Dix had spent hours fixing the shorted out display (and Alec was damned lucky he was still breathing, too), but maybe there were still a few bugs to work out.

"No." Dix snapped, staring down at the offending screen as if he could scare it into submission. "I've checked the connections three times. And before you ask, it's a brand new multiplexer, so it can't be that. There's nothing wrong with the system."

"Maybe the problems on the other end," Will offered. "We've had cameras go bad before."

Dix narrowed his eyes and stared down at the screen. "Wait a minute," he said. He sat down, hands flying over the keys in a blur. All of the sudden, he stopped.

"Mole!" he yelled.

"What?" came a muffled response. Mole was down the hall in the armory, but transgenic hearing made intercoms a moot point.

"We have a situation," Dix yelled back, and everything in Command stopped.

Mole had to push his way, none-to-gently, through a group of transgenics that had gathered around the surveillance station. "What situation?"

"I think we're being jammed," Dix said, pointing to the snowy display. "Camera Fourteen."

"Fourteen? That's the South tunnel," Wil said.

"This can't be good," Mole said as he pulled out his radio. "Alec, Mole. You copy?" Alec had gone off somewhere to keep himself occupied until his two hours were up.

_Loud and clear, _Alec responded instantly. He must've been sitting somewhere with his radio in hand, waiting for news.

"We have a problem."

_The team? _The tension in Alec's voice was as clear as the signal.

"Negative. We think someone might be jamming the camera in the South tunnel. Could be maybe the camera's on the fritz, but I plan to take Wil and Dix, check it out."

_Grab Zev and one of her crew while you're at it. I'll meet you there._

"Affirmative. Mole out." The scaled transhuman turned to Will and Dix, all business. "Let's go."

* * *

Alec jogged down the ramp of the South tunnel, relieved that he had something to do. He had another forty-five minutes until his deadline, and he needed something to distract him until then, or he was pretty sure he was going to go crazy.

He slowed as he caught sight of Trix, one of Zev's crew, sitting with her back to the tunnel wall, her arms wrapped around her legs and a dazed look on her face. Her dark hair hung down into her eyes, and she was shaking. Alec's face blanked as he went into soldier mode, pulling his gun and scanning the tunnel for threats. "Trix? You okay?"

Trix looked up at the sound of his voice. She didn't speak, but there was a haunted look in her eyes, and it scared him. He gave her a quick once over, looking for injuries, but she seemed okay, so he moved with stealth past her into the tunnel beyond.

He stopped so abruptly it was like he had hit an invisible wall. His arms fell to his sides, the gun slipping from his hand to clatter against the floor.

Mole, Wil, Dix, and Zev--they were all standing there, guns in hand but pointing at the ground, so shocked that they couldn't move. Beyond them was the reason why. Beyond them was the thing that made his whole world stop.

A pile of bodies, stacked in a jumbled heap without care to the fact that they were once living beings. The lights of the tunnel made the red blood glisten; the smell of it was overpowering. Alec's brain processed features, recognizing but not wanting to recognize. A hand here. A bruised cheekbone there. A fall of dark hair. Then the enormity of what he was seeing hit him all at once.

Max's crew, tangled together in a pile of broken flesh. And on the top, draped almost lovingly, was a woman. The back of her neck was raw and bloody. Dark, blood-soaked hair concealed her face.

Alec forced himself to approach, his movements robotic as his body fought him. He didn't want to see, but he had to. He had to see.

"Alec, don't..." Zev protested, but Mole caught her by the arm and pulled her away.

"Leave him be," he whispered.

Alec's hand shook as he reached forward to brush aside the hair covering the woman's face. He knew what he would see, but he clung to the hope that it wouldn't be _her _face, wouldn't be _her _dead eyes staring back at him.

Hope, it turned out, was a cold-hearted bitch.

"Damn," Mole murmured from somewhere behind him, but the word didn't register. As Alec's own heartbeat pounded in his ears, the rest of the world fell away. All that existed for him was that face--one he knew better than his own. Battered and bloody, but still beautiful, with a hole no bigger than the tip of his index finger in the center of her forehead.

Max's face.

His eyes were drawn to a note pinned to her back, the white paper stained with her blood. Alec snatched at the note and drew it closer, his pupils dilating as his vision zoomed in to read the words in the weak light of the tunnel.

_Thought I'd return these to you. I won't be needing them any more. I did keep their barcodes as a souvenir of our time together. Hope you don't mind. _

_We will meet again, 494. Next time, you won't be so lucky._

The note slipped from his hands and fluttered to the floor. White. Fucking White.

Alec backed away slowly, shaking his head, unable to take his eyes off of that face. Those eyes. "_No,_" he whispered.

This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not after everything that they had been through. It couldn't end like this.

He stopped and stared down into those glazed-over eyes, trying to make sense of it all. But it didn't make sense. It couldn't. He would not accept a world where something like this made sense.

_This was not happening. _

Wil came up behind him. "I'm sorry, Alec," he said quietly, placing a hand on Alec's shoulder.

Alec shrugged it off with a sudden, violent motion, which had Mole stepping forward in case he needed to intervene. Alec tore his eyes away from the body to look beseechingly at the transhuman. "It's not her," he said, eyes burning with an intensity that bordered on fanatic.

"_Alec_..." Mole said, his voice gentle in a way that even _he _hadn't known he was capable of. He didn't know what to say. There was nothing anyone could say that would make something like this better.

"I'm telling you, it's not her," Alec repeated. His wide eyes shifted frantically, unfocused, as he searched for an explanation. Then they snapped back to Mole, bright with new purpose. "It's Sam. It has to be Sam."

"Look, man... I know this is hard, but you have to face facts. She's wearing the same clothes. She's with the crew. There's no other logical explanation."

"I don't care. It's not Max."

Mole reached forward and clasped Alec by the shoulders, staring into his eyes as if he could somehow bore the truth into the X5's brain. "You not wanting it to be her won't make it not her."

Alec's gaze was unflinching as he met Mole's stare, but the rest of him was wracked by fine tremors. "Yes it will," he said, and his voice broke on the words.

"Hey, you guys!" Zev called out excitedly. She and Dix had been moving the bodies, laying them out so they could at least be dignified in death, when she had felt a hint of a pulse. "Brand's still alive!"

Alec surged forward and pushed Zev and Dix aside, placing a hand on either side of Brand's head. "Brand, look at me. _Look_ at me. That's a fucking order!" Brand's one eye was swollen shut, but the other rolled in the socket until it stilled, trying to focus on his SIC. Alec leaned in closer. "Where's Max?"

"_Alec_," Zev said, softly pleading as she tugged at his arm. "We need to get him to Medical."

Alec ignored her. His focus was totally on Brand. "Where _is_ she?" Alec repeated, his voice a harsh and angry.

Brand's eye rolled, tracking across the tunnel until it came to land on the bodies. He licked lips that were cracked and dry. "M'sorry," he gasped, "Tried... c-couldn't... protect her…" then his eye fluttered, and he passed out.

"No!" Alec cried out, shaking Brand's head a little to try to revive him. Wil and Dix grabbed him and pulled him off. Alec struggled against their grip, all the while shouting down at Brand. "She's not dead! You tell me where she is! **_She's not dead!_**" He threw off Wil and Dix and was surging forward to try to get more information from Brand when he ran into a solid, scaly green brick wall.

"That's enough!" Mole said and slammed Alec back against the wall of the tunnel; he had to fist his hands in Alec's coat and shove him back to keep him there. It was a good thing that Alec wasn't thinking straight; Mole knew that he was no match for Alec at hand to hand. He had to handle the situation while he still could.

"Dix! Wil! Get Brand to Medical! Zev, deal with Trix," he shouted at them, then turned his attention back to Alec. His heart clenched as he saw the raw fear in his friend's red-rimmed eyes.

"She's not dead, Mole. She's not." Alec repeated, his voice desperately insistent.

"I want to believe you, man. I really do. But what are the odds? That's the whole crew. That's _Brand_, not a clone. Brand was with _Max_. He even said that…"

"I don't care what he said," Alec interrupted. His words were frantic and fast, sentences running together in his intense need to make Mole see the truth. "I don't care what the odds are, I'm telling you, that's Sam, not Max. White's got her somewhere, some secret base or something, and he swapped bodies, killed Sam and swapped clothes, made it look like Max. That's why he kept the barcodes, to cover it up. Max is still alive. She's out there, and I've got to find her."

Mole gave Alec a rough shake, taking out some of his own anger and grief on his friend. "Do you hear yourself? This is crazy!"

"She needs me, Mole," Alec said, his eyes begged, _Believe me_. "She's not dead. She's _not_."

Mole shook his head. "How could you possibly know that?"

Alec exploded, shoving Mole away from him and sending him crashing into the opposite wall of the tunnel. "Because I'd know!" he shouted, his words echoing off the walls. "I'd know if she was gone, goddammit!" He turned away, shoulders sagging. His words were quieter, almost defeated, as if he knew he should doubt but couldn't quite bring himself to do it. "I'd just _know_."

His eyes burned as he turned back toward the body, which Zev had laid out on the floor. _Sam's body_, he told himself. _Sam_.

He knelt down and picked her up in his arms, the weight and feel of her so familiar, but not familiar, not _her_. He cradled the body against him, telling himself over and over that it was _not her, not Max_, as he carried a dead woman with Max's face out into the light.

* * *

A/N: Chew on that, my pretties!


	5. Ch 4: Rivers in Egypt

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: Forgive the delay. Real life intrudes.

Warning: Language and violence, with a healthy dose of angst thrown in for good measure.

* * *

Chapter 4: Rivers in Egypt

The room was quiet. There was no sound of a beeping heart monitor. No respirator making shushing noises as it forced air into lungs that refused to work on their own. No drip of an IV. The woman lying on the gurney was beyond any of that now.

Alec sat in a chair beside the bed, motionless. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Sometimes, he forgot to breathe.

She was naked except for the blanket that had been draped over her. They had covered her face with it, but Alec had pulled it back. He needed to look at her, to see her face.

The trip to Medical had been a blur. He'd heard various voices—panicked, angry, afraid. His brain couldn't process what they were saying, but it didn't matter. Mole had done something to take care of it. The others had backed off.

There had been a flurry of activity once he'd stepped into the Medical building. He couldn't keep up. Everyone was in fast forward while he was stuck in slow motion.

It came as something of a shock when the weight of her disappeared from his arms. Everything snapped back into focus, and he'd starting shouting orders, making demands. He couldn't remember what he'd actually said, but he did remember that Mole had to forcibly drag him away and remind him that they had to take care of Brand first. He had nodded numbly and had settled down to wait.

Vash had done all that she could for Brand, but he was in critical condition. There was still a chance that he would make it, but it didn't look good.

As soon as the surgery was over, Alec had insisted that Vash examine the body, wanted to make her try to _prove_ it was Max, because he knew in his bones that she could not. Mole and the others had tried to drag him out of the room during the examination, but he'd refused to budge. If they were going to prove it was Max, then he needed to be there to see it.

He'd watched as they cut off her blood-soaked clothes. As they catalogued the wounds on her brutalized body. As they took blood and skin samples to compare the DNA. He refused to look away.

His eyes told him that it was Max. Except for the injuries, everything was the same. _Everything_. The skin, the curves, the line of her jaw, the shape her ear—there was no difference from the memory of her that was imprinted upon his brain. If he trusted his eyes, then it _was_ Max.

His heart refused to believe it.

Now he sat there, waiting. Mole had convinced him to let Vash run her tests. He had agreed, not because he believed that the tests would confirm that the woman he'd carried from the tunnel was Max, but because he needed to time to think. To plan.

He'd gone through a lot of rough times in his life—living through Manticore's so-called training; losing friends in the line of duty; enduring months of Psy Ops testing; watching Rachel die. All of it put together didn't even come close to this.

Max was out there somewhere. She was _alive_.

But no one would believe him.

* * *

Mole stood outside the conference room, trying to still the tremors in his hands. It had hit him all at once. One minute, he'd been walking down the hall, ready to deliver the bad news to the council, and the next, he was freaking out.

Max was dead. Leader, friend, pain in the ass—she was _dead_.

A lot of his brethren might have thought that it would've rolled off of him, either because they thought he didn't like Max or because they thought he had no feelings. He'd let them think the former because he enjoyed a good fight, and Max had been one of the few people that had the guts to stand up to him on a regular basis; he'd always respected that about her. He let them think the latter because it helped him keep them at arm's length. He'd already let too many people in as it stood, and look how that had turned out. Max was dead and Alec was in full-on denial, quite possibly borderline crazy. Things couldn't get any worse.

Actually, they could. He'd just become the _de facto_ leader of Terminal City. Again.

From the cacophony of sound coming from the conference room, word had already gotten around about the tragedy.

The truth was, no one was actually sure what had happened. In typical rumor mill fashion, the story had quickly gotten out of control. Scuttlebutt ran the gamut from vigilantes to military invasion. The fact that Brand was still alive had only confused the story even more; some had heard the team was injured, others had heard dead. No one was quite sure who was alive and who wasn't.

Since Mole was next in chain of command, everyone would be looking to him for answers. He was the one that was going to have the hold Terminal City together when what he was about to tell them would surely threaten to tear it apart. Even though it was tearing _him_ apart, he was the one that would have to keep it together, for the sake of everyone in TC. It was what Max would've wanted.

Damn it.

He took a deep breath. _Now or never._

As soon as he stepped into the room, he was hit with a barrage of questions too loud and overlapping to understand. Wil tried to get them under control, but they ignored him. Dix and Zev joined in to help, but it was no use. The sky was falling, and they damn well wanted to know why.

Everyone in the room jumped at the sound of a shotgun discharging, shocked into silence. Small chunks of plaster rained down from the ceiling in front of Mole, who ejected the expended shell from his shotgun.

"Sit down," he said, and he was amazed by how calm he sounded. He didn't feel calm. Once he was sure that he had everyone's attention, he lowered his shotgun. "_Please_," he added, and it was that _please, _coming from Mole of all people, that was most disturbing. It made them realize that the rumors might be more than just rumors.

Once they were all seated, Mole stood at the head of the table, looking out over a small sea of wide eyes. They were all staring at him expectantly, which he could've dealt with, no problem, if there hadn't been a glimmer of hope in those eyes.

You would've thought that, growing up at Manticore, they would've known better. In real life, the good guy didn't get the girl, the bad guy usually won, and even if he didn't, there was always another one just around the corner.

There was no such thing as happily ever after. Max and Alec were proof of that.

"By now you've all heard the rumors," he began, and immediately had to hold his hand up to still another barrage of questions, "and I will answer every one of your questions. But first, I need you to shut up and listen."

Mole very carefully set his shotgun down on the table. He bowed his head and stood there, trying to think of some way to say it that would make it easier to take. He'd been trying to think of a way to break the news since he'd left Alec with Max's body.

_Fuck it_, he thought, straightening. _There is no better way._

"Earlier this evening, we discovered that someone was jamming the camera in the south tunnel. We went to check it out. Whoever had jammed us was long gone, but they'd left something behind. We found…" Mole had to clear this throat. "There were six bodies left in the tunnel for us to find. Ames White has taken credit."

"Bodies?" someone near the back of the room asked.

"Max's team. There was only one survivor."

"Max?" Luke asked, staring at Mole as if he could work some Psy Ops mojo and make the scaled transhuman say that _Max_ was the survivor.

Mole shook his head. "Max is dead. Jin, Kai, Nila, Kel—all of them are dead. Brand is in critical condition, but… Vash doesn't expect him to survive the night."

There were several gasps from around the room. Gem covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a sob; she'd had a thing for Kai. Others bolted to their feet, outraged and ready for revenge. Digger led the pack, shouting the loudest.

"So what the hell are we going to do about this? Are we going to sit around with our thumbs up our asses while some damn Familiar gets away with killing our people? Our leader?! We can't let them get away with this!"

Emotionally, Mole was with Digger. Logically, he knew that they needed to wait until cooler heads prevailed, or they'd end up losing a lot more than Max and her team. "We won't let them get away with this," he said. "But for now, we do nothing."

"Nothing?!" Digger exclaimed angrily, and he was echoed by several others in the room.

"Look, I want a piece of Familiar hide as much as the next guy, but right now we need to take care of our own. You all need to spread the word. Tell your people what happened. Break it as gently as you can. I expect all of you to deal with any fallout. Each of you will personally guarantee that no one goes vigilante, or it's your ass. You let 'em know, anyone steps a toe out of line, they'll answer to me."

"What about Alec?" Gem finally asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

Mole had known that they would ask sooner or later, but he'd been hoping it would be later. "Give him time."

It was common knowledge that Max and Alec were completely gone over each other, even if they did fight all the time. Everyone would know that Alec was having trouble dealing with Max's death, but what they didn't need to know was how far around the bend he'd gone. Mole was determined to keep that under wraps for as long as he could.

"Until then," he added, "I'm in charge. As of right now, Terminal City is going into lockdown. All missions are cancelled. There will be no unauthorized contact with anyone on the outside, and I mean _anyone_. Dix has already turned the jammers on, so any of you with cell phones can forget about it. All visitors will be authorized by me. Until we deal with this crisis, we are a closed city. Got it?"

There were murmurs of ascent. Most of them were too shocked to argue; Mole's shotgun lying on the table made the rest of them think better of it.

"Good. Stay sharp people. The Familiars aren't the only ones out there who want us dead."

* * *

Widget crossed the hall, moving quietly to stand behind Vash. The doctor was looking down the hall toward the cold storage room. Behind its closed door, Alec held his vigil over Max's body. The tests were running. The only thing they could do now was wait.

"I've prepped all of their bodies for the funeral tomorrow morning," Widget said in his quiet voice. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, wrapping cold, lifeless bodies with faces he'd known so well. He followed Vash's gaze, and his nose twitched with anxiety. "What should I do about Max?"

Vash sighed, then squared her shoulders and straightened, preparing to do battle. "I'll handle it," she said and took a step forward.

"I think maybe we should wait," Widget blurted out, causing Vash to stop and turn. "On Max," he added. "Give him more time with her."

Vash frowned. "The longer we delay, the harder it will be for him to let go."

"It'll be hard no matter when we do it. A few hours won't make a difference."

"You're right," Vash said, reaching up to massage the tense muscles in her neck. The day had been never-ending, and it was far from over for her and her staff. "We'll leave it for now. It won't hurt to take care of it later."

They both looked back down the hall toward the cold storage room where they stored perishable medicines—now a makeshift morgue. It was well below freezing in there, but Alec hadn't come out since they'd rolled Max's body in. Not once.

He'd been in there for over four hours.

Vash sighed again. "Once we have the test results, we may be able to convince him," she murmured, then turned and brushed past Widget, heading off to check on Brand before she went back to her tests.

Widget continued to stare at the closed door. "I don't think so," he whispered.

* * *

Dalton and Oscar were on the top floor of one of Terminal City's taller buildings, oblivious to the turmoil below. It had become unofficial X6 territory; they used it for sparring, hanging out, whatever they felt like. The other residents of TC had let them have it without complaint, mainly so they could get as many kids full of raging hormones out of their hair as possible.

The boys had been there for hours, practicing the new and extremely difficult move Alec had demanded that they perfect before their next class. He'd said that they had both better have it down the next time he saw them, and be prepared to teach it to the class, or they would be scrubbing down every bathroom in TC. It was their punishment for what had happened in the tunnel.

Once again, Alec had managed to beat the hell out of them without even lifting a finger.

By now, they were both tired and sore, but neither of them had it quite right. Dalton thought he was finally about to get the upper hand when Kazi burst into the room, the double doors slamming hard against the wall. It only distracted him for a moment, but that was all Oscar needed. The dark-haired X6 shifted his weight, twisted, and then flipped; Dalton landed hard on the dusty floor.

"Thanks, Kazi," he huffed from his prone position. "Perfect timing."

"Have you heard?" she said, the words coming out in a rush between panting breaths. She'd run around half of TC looking for Dalton. Belatedly, she realized how stupid the question was. Of course he hadn't heard; he wouldn't be sparring with Oscar if he had heard.

The blonde X6 sat up and turned, automatically reaching without looking for the hand Oscar had offered to help him up. As his friend pulled him to his feet, Dalton got his first good look at Kazi. Her face was pale, with cheeks and nose reddened by the cold. Her eyes were wide and shiny; she had been crying.

Dalton and Oscar shared a look. Something was wrong. Kazi wasn't the kind of girl to give up her tears easily. "Heard what?" Dalton asked.

Kazi froze, suddenly afraid. Dalton had been her boyfriend for a while now, and she knew how close he was to Alec, and to Max. She'd rushed around to find him so she could tell him what had happened without ever really thinking about how hard it would be to actually have to tell him.

"What's going on?" Dalton said, stepping forward to grasp her arms lightly. She was starting to freak him out. Oscar came to stand next to him, looking worried.

Kazi sniffed. "It's Max. She… she…" Her voice failed her.

Back when they were at Manticore, death was a part of life. It had been so much easier to inure herself to it when everyone had been a number.

"What?" Dalton's hands gripped her tighter as his heart began to pound. "What is it?"

Was she hurt? Arrested? Captured? There were so many things that could've gone wrong, and the longer Kazi was silent, the worse those things became. "Kazi!" he yelled, giving her a shake to try to snap her out of it.

"She's dead!" Kazi blurted, too upset to word it any better.

Dalton drew his head back. He couldn't have heard that right. "That's not possible."

A tear finally escaped and rolled down Kazi's face. She hastily wiped it away. "I'm sorry, Dalton. She's gone."

Dalton let go of her and took a couple of steps backward, shaking his head in disbelief. "No. No. That can't be right."

Oscar stepped forward, sending a worried look at his best friend before turning to Kazi. His first instinct was to panic, but he couldn't allow himself the luxury. No matter what he felt, it couldn't possibly compare to what Dalton was going through right now. "Who told you this?" he asked quietly but firmly.

Kazi wiped a hand under her nose and sniffed again. "It's all over TC. Everybody knows."

"So it's a rumor." He made it sound like a statement instead of a question, because he was afraid that he didn't want to hear the answer to the question.

Kazi shook her head. "No. It can't be. I heard them talking about it in the conference room. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop or anything—I was just dropping off the inventory results for the armory—when I overheard them talking. Max is dead; her whole team is dead, except Brand, but they said he was probably not going to make it."

Oscar stared blankly at her as the information sank in. Could it be true? Was Max really dead?

As if sensing his doubt, Kazi closed the distance between them and said quietly, "I heard Mole say it himself, Oscar. He said White did it. He wouldn't say something like that unless it was true." Her eyes shifted to Dalton.

The X6 turned his back on her and stalked to the bank of windows. His chest was unbearably tight, and he could feel tears threatening, but he wouldn't cry. Not in front of Kazi.

"_Dalton_," Kazi said, her tone pleading. She wanted to help, but she didn't know how.

Dalton closed his eyes. A tear ran down his cheek, then another. He wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. "Just go," he said, struggling to get the words out.

Kazi took a step toward him. "I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that. I only wanted to…"

"_Please_," Dalton interrupted desperately, his breath coming in fast pants now. He couldn't take her sympathy. Not now.

Kazi frowned uncertainly. Maybe she should stay. That was probably what a good girlfriend would do. But even if she did, she wouldn't have known what to say to him. If you needed something blown up, she was your girl, but this was well beyond her area of expertise. Manticore had taught her how to be good demolitions expert, but they hadn't bothered to teach her how to be a good person. She was beginning to think that she wasn't doing a very good job of figuring it out on her own.

"I'm sorry," she said again. Before she left, she gave Oscar a look—a silent plea that begged _help him_—before she turned and did as Dalton asked.

Oscar watched her go. He swallowed hard, feeling like his throat was coated with glass. He was scared, scared out of his mind. Max was dead. Max, who had seemed invincible to him. If it could happen to her, then it could happen to any one of them.

He turned back toward his friend. Dalton's shoulders had begun to shake. Oscar walked over to the windows and stood next to him, looking down so he wouldn't have to see him cry. He knew that Dalton wouldn't have wanted him to see that.

"You okay?" Oscar asked gently.

It took Dalton a full ten seconds before he could answer. "No," he replied, choking on the word.

Oscar didn't say anything. He didn't need to. There was nothing he could say that would make Max's death easier to take. All he could do was stand there as Dalton broke down, offering silent moral support.

He'd never felt so helpless in his life.

* * *

While Mole and Dix were busy putting out fires among the transgenic population—trying and, for the most part, succeeding to stem the panic—Wil and Zev were busy sealing off the city.

"We're going to need sentries in all of the main tunnels, and a couple of teams for long range recon. We'll seal off all secondary tunnels and access points. And I want to double the patrols here, here, and here." Wil leaned over the map of Terminal City, pointing out each area where he wanted extra security.

Zev chewed on her bottom lip as she considered it, then shook her head. "No can do. I don't have the people to handle that."

"Desperate times, Zev. You can have all of my people, and if need be we can recruit some of the Sevens. They're naturals at patrol and recon."

"I don't like using the kids. If things get hairy…"

"Well, what are we supposed to do then?" Wil said with a touch of anger. Normally, he would've been too self conscious to argue with Zev about anything, but events had taken him so very far from normal. "Leave ourselves vulnerable?"

"No. Dammit," Zev replied, irritated as much with herself as she was with Wil. "I just thought that… I didn't want to…" She stopped and heaved a frustrated sigh, pushing her hair back from her face.

Wil stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I don't want to do it, either, but they're all we've got. Like it or not, they're soldiers, Zev—just like us. We need them."

Zev gave him a crooked frown. "Why do you have to be all reasonable?"

Wil gave her a crooked smile and shrugged. "It's a curse."

Zev leaned heavily against the table, propping her chin on her hand as she gave him a considering look. She liked what she saw. "You know, you're kind of sexy when you're reasonable."

Wil did his best not to blush, but his ears turned beet red. He mentally cursed himself. Why did he have to get tongue-tied every time he was around a pretty girl? Especially _this_ particular girl? He cleared his throat and quickly changed the topic. "Why don't we, umm, take a fifteen-minute break? I don't know about you, but I could use a drink."

He made her laugh. It just figured. The one guy in Terminal City that she wouldn't mind having a quick round of mindless, forget-the-world, life-affirming sex with was shy. "As long as we talk about anything but security, you've got yourself a deal."

* * *

Vash stepped into the cold storage room with hardly a sound. A chill ran up her spine, but it wasn't from the cold.

Alec was still in the chair beside the bed, where she'd left him hours ago, quite possibly in the exact same position. He could've been a statue, except that she could see the way his breath steamed in the cold air.

"Brand?" Alec asked without turning, instinctively knowing why she had come.

Vash hung her head, feeling the sharp sting of failure. She knew she shouldn't blame herself; without the benefit of a room full of Manticore-level medical equipment, no one could've saved Brand. Knowing that didn't make her feel any better. She'd held his hand and watched the light go out of his eyes. "He didn't make it."

Alec nodded, but he didn't take his eyes from Sam's body. Over the past several hours, he'd mentally catalogued every bruise, every cut and scrape—all of the damage done to her. If they'd done this to Sam… he shuddered to think of what was happening to Max.

Vash stuffed her hands in her pockets, not sure what to do with them. She felt awkward and unsure of herself, and she didn't like the feeling. She knew how to heal the body; it had always come easily to her. But emotions were part of some dark territory she didn't understand and didn't want to understand. After all of the things that Manticore had made her do, she was better off without them.

"Alec…" she began, faltering as she stumbled over what she had been planning to say. Brand's dying words had made her think that she might actually be able to talk some sense into Alec, but now she wished that she had waited for the test results. She paused for a moment to collect herself, then continued. "Before Brand died, he said…"

"I don't care what he said," Alec snapped, cutting her off. He knew what she was going to say, and he was tired of hearing it. "It's not true."

"He was _dying_. Why would he lie at a time like that?"

"I'm not saying that he was lying. I'm saying that he was wrong."

"He was _there_, Alec."

Alec stood up slowly and turned toward her. He took several deliberate steps until he was so close that she had to look up at him. It took everything in her not to take a step back. "Are the tests finished?" he asked, his voice low and very controlled.

Vash swallowed convulsively. Alec wasn't exactly threatening her, but no one could mistake the look in his eyes as friendly. "No."

"Then you have nothing, Vash. _Nothing_. No concrete physical evidence that proves the woman over there is Max. All you have is conjecture and the word of a dying man who had a severe concussion and multiple gunshot wounds. Until you come up with something better, leave me alone."

He sat back down in the chair. It was almost as if he had never left it.

Vash backed out of the room quietly. She'd wait for the test results, then she'd try again. Next time, though, she was bringing reinforcements.

* * *

Alec spent a long time sitting in that cold room, thinking over his next move. Some people might have thought that he had slipped into some sort of dreamland where time did not exist, but that was far from the truth. He was hyperaware of each passing minute.

Exactly two hours and eighteen minutes after Vash had come to tell him that Brand was dead, he heard voices outside of the storage room. It was Mole and the others, talking to Vash. The sound of conversation faded as they moved down the hall, ostensibly so that he wouldn't overhear what they said, but they didn't move far enough.

* * *

"They were all tranqed," Vash said. "We're talking heavy shit; I haven't seen the likes of it since Manticore. This stuff was specifically geared to take down a transgenic. If they'd hit an ordinary with it, there's a good chance it would've killed 'em."

"That explains how they were able to take six of our people out," Wil remarked.

"Yeah, but it's worse than that. Much worse. This wasn't just a tranq. It was mixed with something else. Something I've never seen before, probably experimental. It destabilized their DNA."

"What do you mean, destabilized?" Mole asked.

"Transgenics are basically a hodgepodge of DNA, right? Mostly human, but there's a lot of animal spliced in there. This drug? From what I can tell, it attacks those splices, resulting in the separation of the animal from the human. Their DNA was basically being pulled apart at a sub-cellular level. Systematic failure of the circulatory system and internal organs would've followed. If they hadn't all died from their injuries, I'm thinking they would've been dead within a week, ten days tops."

They all shared a look. If they had thought things were bad before, it paled in comparison to what the existence of this drug meant, what the future might hold.

The extinction of the entire transgenic race.

"We need to start working on a vaccine," Mole said, his voice grim. He was seriously getting tired of all the bad news.

Vash nodded sharply. "My people are already on it. But I could use some extra hands, and some better equipment."

"Get me a list of who and what you need. I'll see that it's done."

"I thought you were shutting down the city?"

"I'll make an exception for this. We can risk a few people if it means saving us all."

"I don't mean to change the topic, but what about the DNA testing on Max?" Zev asked. "Could Alec be right?"

"I can't tell," Vash said, then immediately held up a hand as Mole opened his mouth to protest. "I know I said it should've been easy to verify, what with Max's lack of junk DNA, but I didn't know about the drug then. I ran the test three times to be sure, but it's no use. The DNA's all screwed up; it's hardly even recognizable as transgenic. With better equipment and month or two—maybe I could give you something. And that's only a maybe."

"So you're saying that without the barcode, there's no way to tell for sure," Dix said.

"Given the others' bodies, and what Brand said before he died… I don't see how it _couldn't_ be Max. Before he lost consciousness, he told me he saw White fire the gun at Max's head."

They all looked down the hall toward room where Alec was waiting.

"So how are we gonna go in there and tell him that he's wrong, even though we have no actual proof?" Wil asked warily. Frankly, he didn't want the job.

Mole bowed his head, thinking. After a moment, he came to a decision.

"Come with me. I think I have an idea."

* * *

Alec heard them leave. He knew that he had to go, too. He'd wasted enough time.

There would be no help from his friends. He was on his own.

As he stood, he found himself drawn not to the door but to the body that wasn't Max. To _Sam_.

He couldn't just walk out and leave her like that. Not when no one else would even acknowledge that she was gone. Sam deserved more than that.

"Remember the day we met?" he asked her quietly, unconsciously playing with the frayed edge of the blanket. "The first time I saw you, I knew you weren't Max. Logan couldn't seem to tell the difference, but I always knew. I guess it was because I was already head over heels for Max, though I wasn't willing to admit it at the time. I was kind of stupid back then."

He shifted his gaze to her face. Even in death, she was beautiful—so like Max, but different in a way that only he seemed able to recognize. "I _know_ that you are Sam. I knew it then, and I know it now." After he said it, he knew that he believed it, and that he would never waver in that belief, no matter what they told him.

Max was not dead. It wasn't denial. It was a fact.

He reached up to brush the back of his fingers lightly against Sam's cheek. "I guess things didn't really turn out the way you planned, huh? Probably thought you'd left us and all of our troubles behind, but you got dragged back into it anyway. You shouldn't blame Max for it, though. It's not her fault. It's mine. I should've taken care of White when I had the chance."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I know… you could care less. It doesn't change the fact that you're dead." He ducked his head and gave a partly bitter, partly embarrassed laugh. "It's bad enough that you were killed by that asshole White, but to be surrounded by a whole city of people just like you, and the only one that cares that you're gone is me? That seriously sucks."

Alec bent over, leaning down to speak softly into her ear. "I will find Max, Sam. I don't care what it takes. I _will_ find her. And when I do, I will find Ames White."

He straightened, his face calm. It didn't matter what anyone said. He had a purpose. Nothing could touch him now.

"I swear to you, I will make that man pay for what he has done."

* * *

"Damn it, Joshua, open up!"

Mole banged on the door to Joshua's studio. He could've kicked it in or picked the lock, but he didn't think that was a good idea.

Earlier, they had tried to get to Joshua before he learned about Max's death through the rumor mill, but they had been too late. When they had finally found him, he had already locked himself in his studio and refused to come out. At the time, Mole had decided to leave him be; the council meeting had been too important to wait. He couldn't afford to do that anymore. Terminal City was going to hell in the express hand basket, and he needed all the help he could get to keep their collective ass out of the fire.

Dix, Wil, and Zev were standing behind him, quietly pensive. Since the incident, they'd kind of become a unit. They'd all been there at ground zero when the shit had hit the fan, and it had bonded them together in a way that only shared tragedy could.

_Go away_, came Joshua's muffled response from the other side of the door.

Mole braced his hands against the doorframe, frustrated. Just once, one damn time, he'd like something to be easy. "We need to talk about this!"

_Go away!!_

Even through the door, Mole could hear the grief in his friend's voice. "Fine. You're hurting and you don't want to talk. I get it. But listen to me for a minute, okay? I wouldn't ask if this wasn't absolutely necessary, but we need your help. Alec refuses to believe that she's gone; he keeps insisting that it's Sam. He's gone off the deep end, man, and we don't know how to pull him back."

Zev moved to lean against the wall near the door. "Alec trusts you, Joshua. We thought that you could talk to him. If he had a chance to share his grief with someone who cared about her as much as he did…"

Everyone jumped at the sound of a loud crash, and the door shook in its housing. There was a howl of anguish, and then the sound of crashing and breaking, ripping and tearing. Somewhere behind that door, Joshua was taking his grief out on the things that he loved.

"Should we go in there and stop him?" Wil asked.

Mole shook his head. "No. Let him work it out of his system. We go in there, someone will end up getting hurt." And it probably wouldn't be Joshua.

"Looks like the big guy's not gonna be much help," Dix said, ever the pragmatist.

"Thanks for the newsflash, Dix," Mole shot back sarcastically. His nerves were strung taught and ready to snap.

Dix shrugged. "Just sayin'."

"Dix is right. We need another option," Zev said, frowning.

"Who else is there?" Wil asked.

The four of them stood there with blank looks on their faces. They'd been through a lot that day, and it was weighing on them. Then, as if someone had switched on a light, their eyes widened almost simultaneously as they all came to the same conclusion.

"Dalton," they said in unison.

"Does he even know?" asked Wil. "I don't want to be the one to have to break it to him."

"If he hasn't heard already, somebody has to do it," said Dix.

"Do you think he can really help with Alec? He was pretty close to Max, and Alec's like a big brother to him. He'll probably be pretty broken up," Zev offered.

"He'll have to suck it up," Mole said. "We're out of options."

"Joshua…"

"Joshua could grind any one of us into a bloody pulp if he was angry enough, and from the sound of it, I'd say he's definitely angry enough. I'm pretty sure we can take Dalton if it comes to that."

"He's just a kid, Mole."

Mole turned his back and headed for the stairs. "We can't afford to let him be a kid right now."

* * *

Dalton walked down the hall in Medical, looking more like five years old than fifteen. His adolescent body had collapsed in on itself. Everything about him seemed smaller, more hesitant—even the steps that he took. He was barely recognizable as the boy he had been the day before.

Yesterday, he'd been part of a family. Over the past two years, more than anyone else in TC, Max and Alec had become his family. Now he had lost one and, if the others were right, he was in danger of losing the other. Unless _he_ did something about it.

Needless to say, he was freaking out.

By the time they came to a stop in front of the cold storage room, Dalton's heart was pounding and all of the color had drained from his face. "I don't want to do this," he said as he stared at that closed door, knowing what was behind it. He didn't think he could stand seeing her like that.

"This goes way beyond what you want," Mole snapped. After dealing with the fallout of Max's death all day, he no longer had the patience for diplomacy. "Alec won't listen to me, or Vash, or anyone else. We need someone to talk some reason into him, and since Joshua's locked himself in his studio, you're it."

Dalton shifted uncomfortably, meeting Mole's intense gaze with his own uncertain one. "But what if he's right?"

Mole sighed and leaned against the wall. He was tired. All he wanted to do was find a little time to decompress, but he couldn't. He had to be a fucking leader. "Trust me, kid. He's not."

Zev wrapped her arm around Dalton's shoulders. "This has really messed him up, Dalton," she said softly. "He's not thinking straight."

Dalton's lower lip began to tremble, and he bit down on it hard to make it stop. He didn't want them to know how scared he really was. "I _want_ to believe him."

Zev gave him a squeeze. "We all do, sweetie. But it's just not possible."

"Don't sugarcoat it Zev," Mole said. "You're not doing him any favors." The transhuman pushed himself away from the wall and moved to stand directly in front of Dalton. "Max's crew is dead," he said. "Max was with her crew. Do the math; Max is dead. If you can't accept that, then I can't let you walk through that door. All you'll do is make things worse."

Dalton forced himself to hold Mole's gaze, but it wasn't easy. He took a deep breath and straightened to his full height. "I want to help."

Mole nodded. It wasn't acceptance, but he figured it was a good as he was going to get.

* * *

Alec was gone.

"Sonofabitch!" Mole cursed, slamming a hand angrily against the doorframe. He had hoped that by leaving Alec alone with Max's body, he would eventually come to terms with her death. He should've known better than to underestimate the X5. Alec clung to the stubborn belief that the woman he loved was alive, and now it looked like he had finally decided to do something about it.

Wil and Dix chattered back and forth in rapid-fire fashion, coming up with scenarios for how they would deal with this new problem. At the same time, Zev stepped aside and immediately pulled out her radio. She switched to the dedicated channel they had assigned for the patrols to use during the emergency.

"All points, this is Zev. We have an emergency. Alec's on the move. Repeat, Alec is on the move. Your orders are to apprehend and detain. Copy back with status. Over."

One by one, the border patrols began to report in. Each patrol team responded, and none of them had seen Alec. Unless he had managed to slip out unseen, which was unlikely given the increased patrol presence, he was still in Terminal City.

"We have to stop him before he gets out," Dix said.

Zev shook her head. "You know Alec. If he wants out, he'll get out."

Mole turned and headed for the door, Zev and Dix following hard upon his heels. "We need to find him before that happens."

* * *

Dalton found himself standing in the doorway to the cold storage room, staring at the woman lying on the gurney. Alec hadn't replaced the blanket, so her battered, pale face stood out starkly against the dark fall of her hair.

She looked like Max. If Alec was wrong like everybody said he was, then it _was_ Max.

His heart began to pound faster, and he felt the tears well up in his eyes again. They had told him that she was gone, but it hadn't seemed real until now.

"Hey," Wil said softly, stepping up beside him. It made Dalton jump. He hadn't realized the X5 was still there.

"You okay?" Wil asked, genuinely concerned. As children of Manticore, they'd all seen their share of death, but it was different back then. When life was a living hell, you never really realized how precious it was. Sometimes he wondered if they would have been better off not knowing.

Dalton closed his eyes and forced his pounding heart to settle. He had to keep it together. He had to help Alec. "I guess I have to be."

From the other end of the hall, Zev's head popped back in the door. "Wil! Dalton! Move your asses, or I'll move 'em for you!"

Wil patted Dalton on the shoulder. "Come on, kid. Let's go find Alec."

* * *

Alec heard them come in. He had figured that they would try to stop him, but he hadn't really cared. He wasn't going to let anyone get in his way.

He had gone back to the apartment to change clothes so he would have free range of motion and to arm himself from his personal stash of weapons. He could've stopped by the armory to pick up some heavier hardware, but if he did that, he would've probably had to hurt someone, and he wanted to keep the collateral damage to a minimum. Besides, he liked to carry light; the heavier stuff would only slow him down.

When Mole walked into the bedroom, Alec didn't bother to acknowledge him. He kept on with what he was doing, moving with an economy of motion as he slipped extra clips into the deep pockets of his jacket.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mole asked.

"Going after her," he answered simply without looking up, slipping a knife into the sheath in his boot.

"You can't go after her, Alec. She's gone."

Alec paused to check the clip on his gun, then slid it back home and slipped the weapon into his waistband at the small of his back. "That's your opinion," he said as he pulled his jacket down over the weapon to conceal it. He gave Mole a look that told the transhuman in no uncertain terms that it would be dangerous to get in his way, then pushed past in him into short hall that led to the living room.

The others were waiting for him—Dix, Wil, and Zev, just as he had expected—standing between him and the door, as if that would actually stop him. Dalton was something of a surprise. He had thought that he might still have one ally in Terminal City. It looked like he was wrong.

Mole walked around him to join the others, strengthening the barricade between Alec and the door.

"Get out of my way," Alec said, his voice an eerie calm that had the hair on the back of Dalton's neck rising. He'd heard that tone before.

"_Mole_," the X6 hissed in warning, but instead of backing off, Mole stood out in front of the others, purposely making himself the target of Alec's barely contained anger.

"You know I can't do that."

Alec heaved an exasperated sigh. He had known that it wouldn't be that easy. The problem was he didn't have time to do it the hard way. He pulled the gun from the small of his back, flicking off the safety as he brought it around to point at the transhuman's head.

"I said get out of my way."

Mole looked at the gun, then back to Alec. The side of his mouth quirked, and he shook his head. "You're not going to shoot me." Though for a few tense seconds, Mole thought that he actually might.

"You're right," Alec said, lowering the gun. "I'm not."

In one smooth motion, the X5 clicked the safety back on and slid the gun back into his waistband as he simultaneously pivoted, landing a spinning kick to Mole's head before the transhuman even saw it coming. Mole flew backward, crashing into Dix. Wil and Zev surged forward to stop Alec before he could slip out the door, with Mole and Dix clambering to their feet to join the fray.

Dalton stood off to the side, wide-eyed and paralyzed, as the scene in front of him swiftly degenerated into a transgenic free-for-all. It became a blur of fists and feet, with the occasional body tossed out of the crush, only to scramble back into the fight. Transgenic fought transgenic, momentarily forgetting that they were all on the same side.

"Stop it!" Dalton yelled. They should be banding together, not fighting one another.

They ignored him.

Even though it was four against one, Alec was more than holding his own. He had desperation on his side. For him, this was life or death—not his, but Max's.

Dalton heard a sickening snap accompanied by a pained grunt, and suddenly Wil was spinning through the air. He landed hard on the floor and skidded a few feet. Wil quickly rolled over, holding onto his now broken arm as he struggled to get back up. "Don't just stand there!' he yelled at Dalton. "Get help!" Then he was scrambling back into the fight, keeping his broken left arm held tight against his body to protect it as best he could.

Dalton nodded, but he didn't go for help. He was too dazed to move.

A reverse spin kick to her midsection sent Zev tumbling back into the X6, knocking the both of them back into the wall. She pushed away from him, but had no time to spare him a glance to see if he was okay. In the few seconds it had taken her to get her bearings, she had watched Dix go down, and then Wil. With a muttered curse under her breath, she reached inside her coat pocket and pulled out a cylindrical object. She flicked off the cap, took a quick bracing breath as she waited for an opening, then launched herself at Alec.

She landed on his back. Before he could throw her off, she slammed the pressure syringe against the side of his neck. It made a soft hiss as it forced its contents through Alec's skin. Half a second later, she landed hard on her butt as Alec tossed her off.

Alec stumbled backwards away from Mole, almost tripping over Zev. His hand reached up automatically to cover the stinging spot on his neck. What the hell had happened?

Then the walls began to tilt.

The others looked at Zev, identical looks of surprise on each of their faces. "What?" she said defensively. "Vash said we might need it as a last resort."

Wil held his damaged arm, his face scrunched in pain. "Next time, use it _before_ he breaks my arm."

"Son of a bitch," Alec cursed, swaying as he realized what Zev had done to him. He tried to make his way toward the door, but it was like he was trying to balance on legs made of rubber. He stumbled, and Mole rushed forward to catch him.

Alec fought him, trying to push him away, but he couldn't. Mole's arms were like steel bands, and he no longer had the strength to break them.

His eyes fluttered as he felt himself fading, his body spasmodically jerking as he fought for consciousness. He tugged once more against Mole's arms, then gave up as the last of his strength left him. "You… backssstabbing mmotherfu…" he slurred, his words trailing off as he passed out.

Mole felt Alec go limp in his arms, and he carefully lowered his friend to the floor. He hung his head, emotions a mad jumble of relief and guilt.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly to Alec's unconscious form, not sure if he was apologizing because Max was dead or because he didn't believe that she was alive. Either way, he knew it wouldn't do any good. As long as the X5 believed that Max was alive, Alec would never forgive him.

He may have just lost a friend to save him.

* * *

Vash closed the door to the room they used for heat-related isolation. It was the only place they could think of where Alec could be kept both secure and comfortable. She hesitated for a moment, then engaged the locking bar.

"What are we going to do?" Zev asked worriedly. "We can't keep him locked up forever."

"We won't need to," Mole replied with a certainty that was completely faked. If he could get them to believe it, then maybe he would start believing it himself. "All he needs is a little time to come to terms with what happened."

"But… locking him up. It's too…

"Too Manticore," Dix finished for her.

"I don't like it, either," Mole said, "but it's for his own good. He's not thinking straight. We leave him out on his own, you know exactly what he'll do. We might as well sign his death warrant. I don't know about you, but I'd really like to not have to lose any more of my friends this week."

They all fell silent. The events of the day had left them all emotionally and physically drained, and none of them were sure of the next step. It was Widget who eventually spoke up, his normally soothing voice seeming harsh after the silence.

"What about Max's… body? The funeral is tomorrow morning." His nose twitched nervously as he looked at the bolted door. "Do you think he can handle it?"

Mole closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. He wished he had a cigar. With everything that had been going on throughout the day, it had seemed wrong somehow to light one up. Now he craved one, though the need wasn't physical. He wanted one about as much as he wanted to crawl into his bed and forget this day ever happened.

"We can't let him out. Not like this."

"We can't have a funeral without him," said Wil, still cradling his broken arm. He'd get one of Vash's people to throw a cast on it when he got the chance.

Zev nodded. "Wil's right, Mole. He needs to be there. We have to give him a chance to say goodbye. It might help him accept it."

"We can't have him going around telling people that Max is alive. Everyone's having a hard enough time dealing as it is."

"Then we should wait. Give him a couple of days."

Mole glanced around at the others. They were all in silent agreement with Zev.

"Fine. We'll wait on Max, but we need to have the funeral for the others in the morning. People need a chance to grieve. Vash can keep Max's body in the cold storage room for a while. If Alec's not in his right mind by Friday, though, we're having another funeral, with or without him. Agreed?"

Everyone nodded.

"Good. Then let's get out there and do some damage control, people. Half of TC saw us carry Alec in here. We need to put the word out before they think he's dead, too."

The others scattered, leaving a solitary figure behind. He'd been so quiet, they had forgotten he was there.

Dalton approached the door to Isolation hesitantly, torn. Alec was resting on the bed, deceptively peaceful. Soon, he would wake up, and he wouldn't be so peaceful.

The X6 still didn't know what to think. Alec had seemed so _sure_. What if he was right and everyone else was wrong? What if Max was really out there somewhere, alive? By locking him up, weren't they abandoning her? Without realizing what he was doing, Dalton's hand drifted toward the bar that bolted the door.

As soon as his hand touched the metal, he snatched it back as if he had been burned. Mole's words were ringing in his ears: _We might as well sign his death warrant._

No matter what he believed, he couldn't make himself open that door. The responsibility was too great. If he was wrong, it could cost Alec his life.

Dalton looked one last time through the window, then he turned and walked away.

* * *

A/N: The next chapter is called Quid Pro Quo. Think about it. Reviews are always appreciated.


	6. Ch 5: Quid Pro Quo

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: I think I have kept everyone in the dark long enough. Let's shed a little light, shall we?

Warning: Language. Violence. Brutality.

* * *

Chapter 5: Quid Pro Quo

_"Sorry. Had a better offer."_

… … …

_Bullets. Blood. Insanity._

… … …

_Shark-like, hungry smile. Angular nose, broken sometime in the past. Eyes, glittering with triumph._

_"My son, 452. I want my son."_

… … …

_Kel, Jin, Kai, Nila, Brand._

_Dead. All dead._

* * *

_Rise and shine, 452…_

She groaned, eyelids fluttering as she struggled for consciousness.

* * *

_A gun, pointed at her head. White's cold, angry glare. "Have it your way," he said as he pulled the trigger._

_At the last second, his aim shifted. The bullet grazed so close that she felt it pass through her hair. If she had flinched, it would have grazed the skin above her ear._

_White stared down at her with an irritated frown. "Guess we do this the hard way."_

_Pain exploded in her skull as the Familiar flipped his gun around slammed it into the side of her skull._

* * *

_Rise and shine, 452…_

Her head tossed and turned. She knew what was coming, but she couldn't stop it. She couldn't wake up. The flashes of memory continued on, fragments coalescing, running together until they became more real than reality.

* * *

_She woke up to find Ames White standing over her. She must not have been out for long. As she struggled to her knees, she saw that the bodies of the others were still on the floor, the pools of blood still wet and glistening in the light from the overhead lamps._

_"Ah," White said when he noticed she was awake. "I knew you wouldn't be out for long. You're just in time to meet an old friend." He nodded to one of his goons in the background. "Bring her in."_

_It was like something out of a nightmare. Her brain, hampered by the drugs and the blow to her head, couldn't quite make sense of it. She saw herself, bruised and battered and worn down to almost nothing, being dragged in by a pair of Familiars. Same clothes, same hair. Her face, her body, but not her. _

_All it took was one look. One look into eyes that were hers and yet not hers, eyes filled with cold hatred aimed straight at her, and she _knew_._

_"Sam," she whispered in shock. _Sam_, who was supposed to be off in Canada somewhere, doing the wife and mother and picket fence thing. 453. __Her sister._

_The Familiars tossed Sam down in front of Max, and it was as if she was suddenly in front of a mirror. White's people must've been watching her since she and her crew had left Seattle, or sometime soon after. They had matched the clothes she was wearing almost perfectly. Sam's jacket was a shade darker, but she didn't think she would've noticed if she hadn't seen the two of them together to compare. White had done his homework._

_Sam shook her head and laughed bitterly. "I should've known this was all because of you. All you've ever done is screw up my life." _

_Max ignored her. She had no time to deal with Sam's grudge against her. "What are you doing?" Max asked, looking to White for the answer. Sam's presence meant that the Familiar's plan was more involved than she had thought._

_Before White could answer her, Sam said tiredly, "Why don't you tell him what he wants to know so we can get this over with." From the resigned tone of her voice, Max could tell that Sam knew exactly what would happen when White was done with them. _

_What the hell had they done to her to make her not care whether she lived or died?_

_"I can't tell them what I don't know," Max said apologetically. She already had five lives on her head. She didn't want another, but it looked like she wouldn't be given that choice._

_"Just fucking tell him!" Sam spat. _

_"Now, now, girls," White said, coming up behind Sam. "Let's not fight."_

_"Why is she here, Ames?" Max asked. "You've already killed my entire crew and I didn't tell you a thing. You really think one more will make a difference?" _

_It would, but she couldn't let him know that._

_White knelt directly behind Sam, his face beside hers. "You have a very special purpose, don't you 453?" he asked, stoking her hair. When Sam pulled away from his touch, he fisted his hand in her hair to hold her still._

_White held her there, waiting until Max met his gaze. His was empty, completely lacking any shred of humanity. _

_There was a muffled bang, and for a moment, Max couldn't process what had happened. Then she saw Sam's eyes go wide as her mouth opened in a silent cry, back arching in pain._

_A red stain slowly spread across her double's chest._

_"No," Max said, stunned. She'd already seen too much death, and it had numbed her. The sound of two more shots, Sam's body jerking with each, broke through the haze. "NO!" she screamed._

_White stood, letting Sam's body fall bonelessly to the floor. He moved to stand beside Max, who had unconsciously begun to rock back and forth. He stared down at Sam's body. He looked over at the other bodies, each with a neat round hole through the center of their foreheads. _

_He aimed his gun and fired a round right between Sam's eyes. Max's body jerked and she cried out in protest._

_"There," he said, nodding in approval. "That's better. A little symmetry, don't you think?"_

_"You're a monster," Max rasped, her throat constricting._

_White squatted down in front of her so they were eye to eye. "Yes," he said quietly. "Yes, I am. The kind this world _needs_."_

_"Finish it," she told him. She was tired of this game._

_"Oh, I'm not ready to do that. Not by a long shot. I have plans for you, 452. We're not done yet."_

_He turned his head to look at the bodies of her fellow transgenics. "I'm going to send them back, leave them where your people will be sure to find them. Including 453." He turned back to look at Max. _

_"You're friends won't be coming to the rescue, 452. They'll think you're dead."_

* * *

_Rise and shine, 452…_

* * *

Max screamed herself awake, jerking to a sitting position.

She kept her eyes tightly closed, making a desperate wish that it all had been a very, very bad dream. All she had to do was open her eyes and look around, and she'd see the walls of their bedroom and Alec asleep beside her. She would snuggle down beside him and let the nightmare wash away.

Even though her hands felt numb and her shoulders ached in their sockets, even though the bed beneath her was too cold and hard to be her bed, she held on to that desperate belief for as long as she could.

_Please_, she thought, and opened her eyes.

It _was_ a nightmare. A real-life horror of a nightmare that had escaped from dreamland to steal her life away.

No. Not if she could help it.

The walls surrounding her were stark cement. There was a heavy door, most certainly triple-bolted from the outside. The hard bunk beneath her looked like it had been installed recently. A bare bulb hung from the ceiling, and in one corner, a security camera kept watch. Other than that, there was nothing. No window, no food slot. Not even a toilet.

It wasn't a cell. It was a fucking closet. A very secure, very strong closet, but still… a closet.

Where the hell _was_ she?

Check that. It didn't matter where she was. It didn't matter what happened to the others… not now. There was no time for vengeance. She'd save that for later. All that mattered was getting _out_.

With a huff, Max flopped back on the bunk. The edge of the handcuffs dug into her back, making her grimace. First things first.

She steeled herself to the pain that was about to come, then slid her hands down, tucking her legs so she could bring her arms around to the front. Her torn MCL screamed in protest, but she gritted her teeth and tried to ignore it. It would heal soon enough. Once she got her arms around, she sighed in relief as the pressure on her shoulders eased.

One thing down. Now all she had to do was figure out how to get the hell out of a locked cell, take out whatever Familiars stood between her and the exit, and get back to Terminal City. On a bad leg. While handcuffed.

Piece of cake.

She stood, leaning most of her weight on her good leg. She swayed slightly as her head spun. White had really done a number on her. It sucked, but at least she was still alive.

She tried to focus, because she certainly wouldn't be able to get the door open if she couldn't even stand on her own two feet. She had to get that door open.

And it opened, as if it had heard her and obeyed.

Max took a limping step back. _This can't be good_, she thought.

She was right.

* * *

There were two of them. Big and burly and quite possibly inbred. Familiars, with the smugly superior smile on their faces that seemed to be prerequisite for the breed. But there was something else, too. A glint in their eyes that she had seen so many times in the opposite sex.

Seriously not good.

If they had been normal humans, she could have taken them without breaking a sweat, even with her hands cuffed and a bum leg. But these guys were a lot stronger and a lot faster than a normal human, and it looked like they were bound and determined to have their fun.

Max put her back to the wall. "Hey, fellas," she said, trying to sound coolly casual, but her throat was dry, so it came out as more of a croak.

"Shut up, bitch," the first Familiar threatened, advancing on her. The second Familiar, taller and a little leaner than his buddy, quietly closed the door behind them. "We're not here to talk."

"Don't you think this room is kind of small for the three of us?" she said, still keeping her tone light. "I'm sort of claustrophobic."

"I said shut up," the first Familiar repeated. Max mentally labeled him Tweedle Dee, for lack of something better. As he continued to move toward her, slow and purposefully menacing, he began to unbuckle his belt.

Max's heart beat a little faster.

The second Familiar—Tweedle Dum, naturally—moved to the side, getting in position to flank her if she came away from the wall. "Why is it women never seem to realize that their mouths are only good for one thing?"

Max gave her head a sharp shake. "This isn't going to happen, guys."

Dee smirked at her. "Who's going to stop us? A little thing like you? Stop the two of us, with your hands cuffed? You may be a genetically engineered freak, but you're not that good."

They could be right. She was battered and handcuffed, and there were two of them, but she knew something that they didn't.

She would rather die than let the filthy bastards rape her.

Max went into a light crouch, with her bound hands in front of her and ready. Sweat popped out on her forehead; her knee felt like it was on fire. "Guess we'll find out," she said.

Dee came at her and she pitched forward, ramming her shoulder into his gut. She crouched lower, then sprang with a heave, using his momentum to flip him over her back. Before she could recover, Dum was already coming at her, so she spun and kicked out at him, but he was faster than his partner. He caught her foot before it could connect and grabbed hold. Spinning around, he slammed her into the wall.

She was rolling away before she even hit the ground, which let her narrowly avoid the kick aimed at her ribs. She ignored the pain the way Manticore had taught her, so long ago.

Dee was up off the floor, and Dum wasn't far behind him. She sprang up onto the bunk and leaped into the air, aiming a kick at Dee's head. Her bad leg gave out at the last second, which threw off her aim. Dee was able to duck the blow, which was a serious problem since her trajectory landed her right between the pair of them.

She fought them off for as long as she could, spinning to fight one, then the other. For a couple of minutes, she actually thought she might win.

Stupid.

Dum managed to grab onto the link between her handcuffs and used it to jerk her down, hard, at the same time lifting his knee. Her face crashed into bone, and she flew backwards into Dee's arms. Blood spurted from her nose. He tossed her down on the bunk, and before she could get her hands in a position to push back up, he put his knee on the back of her neck and leaned his weight into it.

She struggled to free herself, sputtering for breath, but the guy was built like a goddamn linebacker. Her vision began to blur, and she felt the threat of unconsciousness.

Her eyes snapped wide as she felt cool fingers against her skin as Dum slipped a hand into her waistband and began to tug.

Her vision cleared in an instant, and she kicked out with her good leg, her booted foot connecting with the bastard's knee with a resounding crack. He didn't cry out (that was the problem with fighting Familiars; they didn't feel pain), but he did stumble backwards. Her clothing remained intact. The weight on her neck lifted.

Then her vision went white, sparkling with a thousand stars as Dee slammed his meaty fist into her temple.

She struggled to get up, but her arms didn't want to work right. Her ears were ringing, but behind it she could hear his smug laughter. Then he was on top of her, his weight pressing down on her, pinning her arms underneath her so she couldn't fight back.

She wasn't going to be able to stop him.

"I bet you like it from behind, don't you?" he breathed hotly into her ear. She could feel the hard bulge of his erection against her backside. "Like an _animal_."

If he thought she was going to give up, just lie there and take it, he was dead wrong. In the end, he might end up getting what he wanted from her, but he'd have to kill her to get it. She wasn't going down without a fight.

She threw her head back, hearing the satisfying crunch as she broke his nose. "You bitch!" he sputtered. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked back until her neck was stretched almost to the breaking point.

"That's enough!"

It was a woman's voice, coming from somewhere behind them. Cultured. Feminine. One of those voices that managed to be soft and forceful at the same time. A voice to be obeyed.

Everything stopped at the sound of that voice.

"You've had your fun. Now get out before I tell Ames White what you've done to his prize."

As soon as the weight on her lifted, Max rolled over and kicked out, sending her attacker crashing into the wall, inches from the woman at the door. Max surged off of the bed, ready to knock down anyone or anything that stood between her and freedom. She had barely taken a step before the woman had a gun pointed at her chest.

"Sit down," she said calmly, her eyes flat and completely devoid of emotion. Max had seen that look before, back at Manticore. Even though the woman was dressed like a scientist—lab coat over a soft lavender sweater, blonde hair pulled back in a sensible yet elegant twist—she had the eyes of a soldier. Max had no doubt that she would pull the trigger.

She took a few hobbling steps backward and sat down lightly on the edge of the bunk. She remained alert, prepared to defend herself but ready to make a break for it if the right opportunity presented itself.

Her attackers struggled to their feet. They paused at the door, both worried and uncomfortable at being caught. Dum said, "Dr. Gaines…" but trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"I said get out," the doctor repeated, her aim never wavering from the center of Max's chest.

The men left without any more protest. Whoever this Dr. Gaines was, she was important enough that they would listen to her without question.

Whoever she was, she had just saved Max from a fate worse than death.

"Thanks," Max said, thinking she might be able to make an ally, or at least a non-enemy.

Dr. Gaines lowered her weapon, slipping it into one of the deep pockets of her lab coat. "No, thank _you_ for fighting them off until I got here." She shook her head as she walked over to Max and began to examine her wounds, making soft noises of disapproval over the damage. "Men can be so stupid sometimes."

The brief spark of hope Max had felt fizzled out as the woman's face turned from a look of annoyed bemusement to disgust. "I couldn't allow them to defile themselves by engaging in bestiality, now could I?"

Without warning, the woman stabbed a syringe into Max's thigh, causing her to yelp in surprise. Dr. Gaines began to back out of the room. Max stood and tried to follow, thinking she could blur past her before the woman could lock the door, but the drug she'd been given worked fast. Max found herself collapsing back onto bunk.

"I'll see you tomorrow," the doctor said; those words had never seemed so ominous. The door closed with a metallic click, followed by several heavy thunks as large bolts were thrown in place.

As Max slowly sank into darkness, she wondered if it would have been better if they had killed her.

* * *

She awoke to a nightmare. It was one she'd had before, many times, when she was little.

She was secured to a large metal chair, much like the ones they had used back in Manticore when they wanted to do something to you that you wouldn't like. There were shackle-like cuffs around her wrists and ankles, as well as a tight, thick leather strap across her ribs, just below her breasts, to keep her body still. They'd taken her clothes and changed her into something that looked like pale blue hospital scrubs; this worried her almost as much as being stuck to the chair did.

Her eyes shifted around the room, noting exits points and possible weapons. Not that it would do any good. She was trussed up better than a Christmas turkey—not that she'd ever had one. She wasn't going anywhere.

The woman was there… what was her name? Dr. Gaines, though Max suspected that she was more the mad scientist type of doctor than the saving lives type. The way the woman was looking at her made her feel like a bug stuck on a pin.

She tugged against the restraints, more as a matter of protest than an actual effort to escape. It wasn't likely that they'd accidentally forgotten to lock her down, but hey, you never knew. Miracles did happen.

She was going to need one to get out of this mess.

"Look familiar?"

Max turned her head at the sound of a male voice to find Ames White walking around from behind her. He looked down, smiling at how thoroughly she was secured. "The chair," he said, clarifying his question. "We got it from Manticore. You wouldn't believe the stuff we were able to seize—a benefit of working for the NSA. America's tax dollars at work."

Max rolled her eyes. She wasn't sure how much more of White's monologuing she could take. "No wonder the county's gone to shit."

"Never you fear, 452. My brethren and I will make it great again."

"Is this your big plan, Ames? You're gonna talk me to death?"

The smile fell from his face. "Where is my son?" he asked for what seemed like the millionth time since this whole thing began.

"Broken record, much?"

In the next instant, his hand was around her throat.

"Where is my son?"

"Amsterdam," Max croaked.

"Where is my son?"

"Burbank."

"Where. Is. My. Son?" he growled through clenched teeth, his fingers digging in until her face turned purple.

"_Ames_," warned Dr. Gaines' voice from somewhere behind him.

He released the transgenic suddenly, backing away. He'd let his emotions get the better of him. He wouldn't make that mistake again. 452 was too important.

As Max coughed and gagged, White repeated quietly, "Where is my son? Where is Ray?"

Max sucked in a ragged breath, then shouted, "I don't know! I don't know!" She jerked against the restraints so hard they cut her skin. "How many times do I have to say it, you son of a bitch?!"

White began to pace, humming quietly as he thought it over. It was as he had expected. 452 had too much fight left in her to give up so easily. He turned to Dr. Gaines.

"Soften her up a bit. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

The doctor smiled. "With pleasure."

* * *

Max lost track of the time. It was an easy thing to do when every minute seemed like an eternity.

In that eternity, she developed a hatred of Dr. Elizabeth Gaines that bordered on obsession.

Her hatred was not something that was lightly conferred. The good doctor earned every bit of it. It might have been different if the woman had taken delight in what she did to Max. After all, what else could you expect from a mad scientist? But the cool detachment with which Gaines hurt her almost drove her mad.

It started out simple… standard electroshock. Been there, done that. Then the bitch got more inventive.

There were drugs that made her feel like she was on fire. Drugs that made her so cold that she thought her teeth might break from chattering so hard. Drugs that made the walls crawl and breathe. There were needles and there were hammers. She'd lost all of the fingernails on her right hand, and had three broken fingers on the left. She'd lost two teeth. She been cut and bled to the point where she passed out. Then she would wake up, and it would start all over again.

Through it all, Dr. Gaines took notes. To her, it wasn't torture; it was science.

* * *

This time when Max woke up, it was to the sound of her own blood dripping into a bucket on the floor. Her wrist had been sliced for the fourth time. The only reason she wasn't dead was that Manticore had designed their soldiers' blood to clot quickly—a small mercy.

"Hmm…" the doctor said, "six minutes. Fifteen seconds longer this time." She made a note on her clipboard.

"I'm going to kill you with that fucking clipboard," Max groaned.

"Subject still displays a stubborn hostility, frequently resorting to hollow threats and profanity."

"Let me out of this thing, you sick, twisted bitch, and I'll _show_ you how fucking hollow my threats are."

Just then, the doors to the mad scientist's lab burst open, and Ames White slid into the room. When Max caught sight of him, she actually laughed. She was close to losing it. "Oh, looky. It's my old pal Ames. Come to join the party?"

White's eyes narrowed as he considered his captive. Maybe he had let Liz take things too far. He needed her spirit broken, not her mind. "Are you ready to talk now, 452?"

"'Bout what, Ames? The demon doc you got cutting on me? You want I should hook you up?"

Gaines backhanded her across the jaw, the force of the blow causing Max's head to whip to the side. Max laughed again and spit blood onto the floor.

"Bring it on, Blondie. You think you can break me? You got nothing on Manticore."

The woman was about to hit her again when White grabbed her wrist to stop her. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, sending her a silent signal with his eyes.

He would take over from here.

Dr. Gaines retreated to the other side of the room, sitting down next to a bank of monitors that tracked her life signs. Once she was out of the way, White began to pace in front of Max's chair as he pondered his next step. Mere torture alone wasn't going to get the job done; he could see that now. He would have to switch to a new tactic.

"They're probably having your funeral right about now," he said, smiling wistfully at the thought of it. "I wish I could be there. It must be wonderful."

"They won't buy it," Max said, and though she sounded certain, she didn't feel certain. Looking at Sam had been like looking in a mirror. Would they really be able to tell it wasn't her? Would Alec?

Ames smirked at her. "They'll be too preoccupied with the drug in your dead body to notice whether or not it's really you."

"What drug?" Max asked, feeling a chill run through her that had nothing to do with blood loss.

"Oh, just something we've been testing. It still needs some work, but we think it will get the job done. They'll find it in what they think is your body and the bodies of your friends. It was piggybacked on top of the sedative we hit you with."

"What's it do?" Max whispered, afraid she already knew what the answer will be.

"It rids the world of your kind, 452. The human race will once again be pure." He walked up to the chair, staring down into the bucket of her blood. "Your doctor will find that all of the transgenics would have been dead within a short period of time had I not put a bullet in each of their brains."

Max's eyes unfocused, remembering the fight that had started her descent into Hell. She remembered the sting of the dart in her neck.

She'd been hit with the drug, too. She was going to die. She'd held up through hour after hour of torture for nothing. She was going to die anyway.

"Don't worry, 452. I made sure the drug they gave you was only a sedative. Enough to take down an elephant, mind you, but still, only a sedative. I didn't want you dying on me before we had a chance to chat."

He leaned on the arm of her chair so that he was face to face with her. "Your friends at Terminal City will be too busy panicking over the existence of this drug to waste time figuring out if you're really you. And even if they do decide to dig a little deeper, they'll never know for sure. The drug will make certain of that."

He leaned closer, until their faces were only inches apart. "No one's coming to save you."

He was wrong, Max thought. Alec would come for her. She had to believe he would come for her, because it was all she had left. She had lost faith in everything else but him.

White straightened and stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets as he rocked back on his heels. "I know what you're thinking. It's written all over your face. You're thinking that 494 will come for you, sweep in and carry you off into the sunset so you can live happily ever after."

"Alec?" Max said, forcing scorn into her voice. "As if."

He couldn't know. He couldn't know about her and Alec. They'd kept it a secret. No one on the outside knew, except Original Cindy and Sketchy, and neither of them would talk.

"Don't be coy, 452. It doesn't suit you." He pulled a stack of photos from his jacket pocket, tossing them one by one into Max's lap.

They were pictures of her and Alec. Sitting together on the rooftop, leaning in for a kiss. Walking hand and hand down Oak Street. Laughing together, playing together. In love with each other.

They'd thought they'd been safe in Terminal City. They had thought that no one could touch them there. They'd been so stupid.

"I knew he would come for you if he thought you were still alive," White said, tossing the final photo. Max's heart felt like it would stop.

It was Alec, walking along, his head down, shoulders sagging in defeat. In his arms was a body.

A body with her face.

"It's the perfect revenge, really. I can rip his heart out without even touching him. I can destroy him without lifting a finger." Ames stared at her, letting his words sink in. Then he slowly shook his head. "He's not coming for you."

Max's head fell back against the chair; she no longer had the strength to hold it up. She'd held on, waiting, holding out because in her heart, she had truly believed that Alec would come for her. That he would know she was alive and come for her.

Now Ames White had taken even that from her.

"You know what I want."

"Go fuck yourself," Max said flatly, without her usual bite. She was tired. So very, very tired.

"Behave yourself, little girl, or I'll turn you back over to my esteemed colleague Dr. Gaines."

"Great," Max laughed sarcastically. "My new BFF."

Ames was beginning to think that there was a chance that 452 didn't know where Ray was. But even if she didn't, and he still thought that unlikely, she had plenty of other useful information.

"Terminal City."

_That_ got her attention.

"I want numbers. Locations. Personnel, weapons, access points—a full schematic."

She was breathing harder now. Part of the reason she had been able to withstand the torture so well was that she really hadn't known where White's son was. They could torture her until they were blue in the face and she still wouldn't have been able to give up his location. But this… this was something that they could pry out of her eventually, with enough time and enough patience.

White apparently had plenty of both.

"You know I won't tell you that." If it came down to it, if she got to the point where she couldn't take the pain anymore, she would bite off her own tongue and choke on it before she would give up Terminal City. "Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?"

White smiled, once again the shark. "When I'm through with you, you'll wish I had."

* * *

"I'd like to talk to you for a minute, Ames."

"Not now, Liz," White said, continuing down the hall. "I'm on a quest for caffeine." Torturing information out of a woman designed to resist torture was tiring work.

"I have a coffee pot in my office."

White stopped and turned. "Lead the way."

He followed her into the room that had been converted into her office, where she already had a freshly brewed pot waiting. She poured two cups, then handed him one. He took a sip and sighed, sinking down into one of her chairs. "Ah. Heaven."

Dr. Gaines sat down behind her desk, setting down her own untouched cup. "I wanted to talk to you about Purity."

"Our wonder drug? What about it?"

The doctor stood up and began to pace. "You shouldn't have let those bodies go, Ames. I needed to see the effects of the drug on their systems. I told you I wanted full autopsies…"

"There was no time," White interrupted. "I had to send them back as soon as I could. If they thought she was alive, they would find her. We couldn't afford to have a small army of transgenics come down on us at this point in the game. We're not ready."

"I know, which is exactly why I needed to have those bodies for my research." She hesitated. "If you would let me inject her with it, I could…"

"No," White said firmly, setting his cup down. "Absolutely not."

"But under controlled conditions…"

"I said no. 452 is too important. Not only is she full of information about the transgenic stronghold…"

"…And your son."

"… _and_ my son," White conceded, "she is also the finest genetic specimen Manticore ever created. Somehow, they managed to create a being with absolutely no junk DNA. She's perfect. I'm not wasting _perfect_ as an expendable lab rat for your precious drug."

"But we need to fully examine the affects before we can perfect it. As you well know, this is one of the top priorities of the Conclave."

"Yes, yes, I'm aware of all of that," he said, waving her protest away. He turned away from her, his lips thinning into a tight line. The lovely doctor was becoming a problem. Still, he needed her… for now. "I'll get you a couple of expendable transgenics to take her place, all right?"

Dr. Gaines sniffed, reluctantly appeased. "A male and a female, preferably. And one of the younger generation, if possible. A six or a seven."

"Done."

He turned to leave, but Liz's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Wait," she said. "I've run some tests. There's something else you should know."

* * *

Max struggled toward consciousness. Her brain felt like it was wrapped in fuzz, and everything else felt heavy and numb.

Dammit. They'd drugged her again.

She wondered how long it had been since she'd been captured. Days? A week? She wasn't sure, but it was long enough to possibly develop blisters on her ass from the Manticore chair from Hell. Days of nothing but pain, pain, and more pain, with the occasional bit of agony thrown in for fun.

After the last round of torture, she had experienced a moment of clarity. A revelation. A goddamn epiphany.

She wasn't going to waste away, crying over the fact that no one was coming to save her. She was a strong, confident, kick-ass transgenic woman. She was a leader. She didn't need someone to save her. She'd go and save her damn self, thank you very much.

Somehow.

* * *

When Ames White came back into the room, she was ready for him.

"Give me your best shot, Ames. I'm ready."

White rubbed his hands together in anticipation, smiling broadly. "Oh, I don't think you're ready for _this_. Bring it in," he called out to someone behind the door.

Dr. Gaines came in, followed by a lab tech pushing a low cart. A large cylindrical object sat on the top, its clear sides revealing a slightly foggy liquid with something floating inside. The cylinder sat on top of what looked like a larger battery pack.

"What is that?" Max asked. She had no idea where he was going with this, and it made her uneasy.

"That, my dear girl, is a stasis chamber. Very similar to the one you were cooked up in at Manticore. I don't blame you for not recognizing it. After all, you were only a tadpole at the time."

He grabbed the cart himself and pushed it closer, until it was right in front of her field of vision. Her eyes widened as the object floating inside became clear.

It was a fetus.

It was only about three inches long—no bigger than her palm, really. Its tiny arms and legs were tucked in close to its defenseless body, its head huge compared to the rest of its still developing form. She could see the outline of its nose, its chin, its tiny fingers as it sucked on its thumb.

"I imagine you didn't know about it," White said, moving beside her so he could look at it from her same vantage point. "If you had, you wouldn't have let us do the things we did to you. You would've tried to protect it."

Max heard his words, but they didn't compute. She didn't want them to compute.

"You're lying," she breathed in denial.

"Am I?" he asked. He reached over and grasped the stretchy waistband of her pants; Max's body recoiled from his touch. "Don't flatter yourself, 452," he said scathingly, then pulled the hem of her pants down slightly to reveal her abdomen.

There was a scar several inches below her belly button—red and angry and new, cutting lengthwise across her stomach. Tiny black stitches sealed the wound shut.

He let go of her waistband, and it slid back up, covering the invasion. Then he bent over her, so close that his lips almost touched her ear as he whispered gently.

"_Quid pro quo_, 452. You took my child. I took yours."

Max shook her head in disbelief. It couldn't be true. It was a trick, some sort of twisted trick—White's new plan to make her talk. But even as she denied it, her brain started putting together the pieces. Everything fit. The extreme mood swings. The fatigue. The way her pants had seemed a little snug in the waist, though at the time she had blamed it on the antique they loosely called a dryer.

She shook her head, wanting it to be a lie, needing it to be, because the truth was too horrifying to accept.

White walked back over to the chamber. "Considering what we've done to you…" he said, bending over to squint at the small fetus trapped inside the chamber. He tapped a few times on the hard plastic, as if he was looking at a goldfish in an aquarium and not an unborn child. "…I'm surprised it's still alive in there. Tough little sucker."

He straightened. "Tell me what I want to know, 452, and I'll have them put it back. And to prove that I'm not completely heartless, I'll give you a choice: give up the location of my son, or give up Terminal City. It's as simple as that."

Max couldn't answer. All she could do was stare in stunned shock at the chamber containing the tiny scrap of life.

White backed away from her. "I'll give you some time to think it over. Don't wait too long, though. I don't know how long it can survive in there."

Just as he was about to leave the room, he paused, turning his head slightly back toward her. "They tell me it's a boy. Fitting, really."

He gave a small chuckle, then flipped off the switch for overhead lights and slipped out of the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

The stasis chamber glowed in the darkness of the room. The fetus inside seemed almost luminous, as if lit from within. It didn't seem real. It couldn't be real, and yet she couldn't make herself look away. As much as she wished it was a figment of her imagination, the chamber remained stubbornly solid in front of her eyes. The monitor at the bottom of the chamber steadily blipped its proof of the baby's existence.

_You took my child. I took yours._

Her mind circled the thought, not wanting to accept.

A child. A baby.

_Her_ baby.

Alec's son.

Max's entire body strained against her bindings as her wordless scream of anger and grief echoed in the cold, dark room.

* * *

The isolation room looked like a small, contained tornado had hit it.

They didn't give tornadoes names, but if they did, this one would have been called "Alec."

The bed's mattress was discarded in a corner. A pile of bloody and tattered strips of cloth that used to be bed sheets was piled on top of it. The bed's frame was scattered about the room, smashed into pieces during the process of becoming a battering ram. Small chunks of the wall littered the ground by the door, amidst dust and debris. The supposedly shatterproof glass of the small observation window was gone; a few jagged edges clung to the edges.

Alec swung a large section of the bed frame, crashing it into the door. His hands, cut up by the broken metal, were wrapped in the strips he had torn from the sheets, not because he cared about the wounds—he didn't even feel them—but because his blood-slickened grip on the frame kept slipping.

He had no idea how long he'd been out. They could have been drugging him for days, for all he knew. He was pretty sure it had been at least twenty-four hours, maybe more.

"MOLE!!" he screamed, his voice hoarse from hours of it. He slammed the frame into the door again. It shook in its housing, but did not budge. "MOLE, YOU SCALY SONOFABITCH, OPEN THIS DOOR!"

White had her. He had Max, and every minute he spent in here was another minute closer to her death. If she had been given the same drug as the others, then she might only have a few days left.

He smashed the frame into the door again with such force that it dented the door. He also managed to shatter the last large piece of frame he had left.

The broken pieces slipped from his hands. Head bowed and breathing hard, he leaned heavily against the door that stood in between him and Max, leaving bloody smears on it. Despair washed over him.

"Oh God," he whispered, "please be okay. Please be okay, Maxie."

His damaged hands clenched into fists and he slammed them against the door over and over as he raged.

"**LET ME OUT!!!**"

* * *

A/N: That's right, folks! Max is alive, Alec is not crazy (not yet, anyway), and those of you who kept the faith are vindicated!

After reading this chapter, you should now understand why I called this story "The Blackest White."


	7. Ch 6: Blinded Faith

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: I wish I could get these updates out there quicker, but sometimes the muse is stubborn.

Warning: Language.

* * *

Chapter 6: Blinded Faith

_"In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don't."  
_- Blaise Pascal

Alec McDowell had come full circle—captive, leader, and captive once again. He stood a few feet from the door, staring at its immoveable surface. He'd been standing there for a while, breathing hard, not doing anything at all… just staring. Despite his makeshift bandage, blood ran down the fingertips of one hand; small droplets fell to the floor with a steady plop, plop.

No matter what he did, the door remained closed.

He turned his back on the door, pivoting slowly. He moved to the other side of the small room and knelt next to what remained of the bed sheets. With efficient movements, he tore another long strip from the cloth.

He set the fresh strip aside and began to unwrap the soaked bandage. As the tattered rag fell away, fresh blood welled up in the cut on his palm. His left hand wasn't as bad—a few scrapes, nothing more. He wouldn't have to change that one. But his right hand was sliced deep, all the way to the bone.

He wrapped the fresh bandage around his palm, pulling it tight. Red bloomed against white as blood immediately began to seep through.

It was so bright. Almost too bright to be real.

Not like the dark, near black pool they'd found in the tunnel.

He ripped another strip, and then another, until he was tearing at the sheet without a care as to what he'd needed it for. Blood flew from his hand, speckling the floor and walls. Soon, there was nothing left to rip apart, so he tore up the mattress. Bits of cloth and mattress batting flew until it looked like it was snowing inside the room. It wasn't long until that too was gone.

He began to pick up the larger chunks of debris and hurl them at the walls. His aim lacked a target this time; he peppered the walls at random. Chips of concrete flew every time there was an impact.

"Why'd you have to be so fucking stubborn!" he raged as he chucked the missiles as hard as he could. "Since the day we met! Never back down, not even an inch! Always your way or the highway."

Out of ammunition, he stood empty-handed and panting, sweat pouring off of him. Having nothing left to take his anger out on, he took it out on himself. He screamed wordlessly and slammed his fists into the concrete wall so hard that he left shallow impact craters. "This is all your fault!"

"It should've been me! _ME_, goddammit! _I_ should be the one lying on a slab with a bullet in the brain. _I _should be the one everyone's crying over. Not you. _ME_!"

"How could you?!" he yelled, his eyes now blinking rapidly to hold back tears. He slammed his hands into the wall again, but with half-hearted effort as his rage burnt out, taking his strength with it. He turned and put his back to the wall. His chin began to quiver as he slowly slid down it.

"How could you go and die on me like that?" he rasped, words breaking into sobs. He curled in on himself, burying his head in his arms as he finally let go.

* * *

The image froze, mercifully cutting off the sound of Alec's sobs. The screen next to it flickered to life, a live feed from Isolation. It showed Alec, in the same position on the floor, still curled up in a ball with his arms wrapped around his legs, only now staring blankly at the wall.

"He's been like that for the past hour," Vash commented softly. She turned around to look at Mole, Wil, Dix, and Zev—the four of them having become a unit to replace their fallen leaders. "What do you think?"

Mole straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. He chewed on the stub of his cigar as he contemplated the images. The conclusion he came to made him scowl. "I think you should give the man an Oscar."

"Come on, Mole. You think he's faking it?" Zev asked. "Seriously. That's over-the-top cynical, even for you."

"I don't know, Zev," Wil said, scratching his chin as he looked down on the images of Alec's grief, side by side. "Alec was the master of bullshit back in the old Manticore days. But still…" he trailed off, but his doubt was clear on his face. If he had to choose sides, he was leaning toward Zev's. He doubted that even Alec could fake that kind of grief.

"Even if he is faking it, and I'm saying _if_, here," Dix said, holding up a hand to forestall Zev's protest, "we can't keep him locked up indefinitely."

"I second that opinion," Vash said grimly. "The room's not going to last much longer, we leave him in there."

Mole angrily threw his cigar down on the floor and tramped on it. "Talk about a rock and a fucking hard place."

Vash looked down at Mole's boot, then back up at his face. The look on her own could have frozen Lake Washington in ten seconds flat. "Tell me you did not just put a cigar out on the floor of my hospital."

There was a brief staring contest, at the end of which Mole decided discretion really was the better part of valor. With a sheepish look (or, as sheepish as a lizard man _could_ look) he picked up the stub of his cigar and slipped it into his pocket.

Somewhat appeased, though still none too happy with the transhuman, Vash crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows at him. "So. What do we do with him?"

Mole looked at the others, but they were all looking back at him expectantly. Of course they were looking at him. Who else would they be looking at? He was in charge, wasn't he?

He must have been dead drunk the day he'd agreed to be third in command. Mole hoped that Alec got his head on straight and soon, because he wasn't sure how much more of this leadership gig he could take. He had no problem taking charge when there was something to shoot, but other than that, the whole _leading_ part of being a leader really sucked.

He closed his eyes, mentally counted to ten, then opened them, squaring his shoulders. "We let him out." He turned on his heel and left the room, heading toward the door that held Alec back. "Max's funeral is tomorrow."

* * *

Mole opened the door himself, though it wasn't exactly easy. Although he hadn't been able to break it open, Alec had done some serious damage. It opened with the screech of metal, carving a groove into the cracked tile floor as Mole managed to open it a little over two feet before it stuck.

He figured he was the next in line for some serious damage.

Mole had gone into the room expecting one of several different reactions from the X5. He should have known better. Alec, however messed up he might be, was still typical Alec and therefore completely unpredictable. Instead of tearing Mole's head off, raging, or continuing to stare off into space, the X5 calmly got to his feet as if he hadn't just torn the entire room down around him. He stood at attention, tugging on his shirt to straighten it, as if presenting himself for inspection. He left a bloody smear on the hem.

Alec's eyes met Mole's, the former's unnervingly calm. Mole wondered if it was the calm before the storm, or after.

"Are you going to let me out now?" Alec asked. His voice was completely level but without its usual strength. He sounded tired and embittered. "I promise I'll be a good boy."

"Yes," Mole said quietly, moving to the side to give Alec a clear path to the door. "We've having her funeral tomorrow. If that's all right with you," he added, watching the X5's every move, looking for anything that might give away his intentions.

"You do what you have to do. You're big man on campus now."

"When things get back to normal…"

"Things will never get back to normal," Alec retorted, the mild bite of the words the most emotion he'd shown since Mole had entered the room.

Alec moved toward the door, but stopped when he came up beside Mole. The transhuman instinctively braced himself, ready for anything, but he wasn't prepared for what actually happened.

"I quit," Terminal City's now former SIC said flatly, his eyes fixed on the narrow opening. Without another word, he slipped out the door.

Mole was left alone, standing in the middle of the chaos that remained. He wasn't a psychic, and he certainly couldn't tell the future, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that there would be more chaos to come.

* * *

Alec didn't make a break for it, though Mole had half expected him to. As soon as they had let him out, the X5 had gone straight back to his apartment and locked himself in. He hadn't come out since.

Mole knew this for a fact, because he'd had Wil assign a two-person crew to watch him. Alec hadn't done a thing since they'd sprung him, which was more unnerving than anything else he could have done.

Maybe Zev was right. Maybe Alec had accepted it.

Right. And pigs could fly. Though, considering his own origins, that wasn't saying much. He'd seen a lot weirder things in his life.

Zev had tried to talk to Alec. Then Wil. Then Dix. They had wanted to ask Dalton to try, but the kid had given them the slip. The X6 had been dodging them ever since they'd locked Alec in Isolation, though they hadn't bothered looking too hard.

Mole didn't think it would have made a difference, anyway. Alec may have heard them, but he wasn't listening.

* * *

Original Cindy took the stairs slowly, counting off each in her head as she went. She pulled her coat tighter around her; although the building was heated, she was ice cold.

She couldn't do this.

_Sure you can, girl_, she told herself. _One foot in front the other, jus' like every other time you took these stairs._

But it wasn't like every other time, and it would never be again. Max was dead. Not missing, not captured like before, but dead.

She had tried to deny it at first. When Wil had shown up in her apartment to tell her what had happened—suddenly there as if he had appeared out of nowhere—she had called him a liar. Then she had called him all manner of nasty things that a nice guy like Wil hadn't really deserved, and she had told him to get out. But he wouldn't. He just kept saying _I'm sorry_ until she finally understood the grief behind his words, saw the pain in his eyes.

But she couldn't accept it. She had to see for herself.

And she had. She had bullied Wil into taking her back to Terminal City, bullied her way into Medical until she was standing in a cold room, facing what she hadn't wanted to face. She'd even tried calling Max's cell phone number to prove that it wasn't her. But the box underneath the gurney—the box of clothing and personal affects that had been removed from the body—began to vibrate, proving her wrong.

She had seen what that bastard had done to Max. She had seen, and she would never forget.

Cindy stumbled forward, not realizing that she had come to the end of the steps. She put a hand against the wall to steady herself. She needed to be steady. She needed to be a rock. For Alec. He needed her now. Max would have wanted her to be there for him.

They'd told her he had refused to accept Max's death. They'd told her he'd gone crazy. After she'd seen what he'd done to the isolation room, she could almost believe it. He'd torn that place apart before he'd broken down and finally accepted the truth.

A half an hour from now, they were going to burn what was left of the best friend she'd ever had. They would say their goodbyes and try to remember the good times as they watched her turn into a pile of ash. Max would be gone forever.

But Alec refused to come.

They'd asked her to talk to him, to see if she could get him to come. Said he needed closure. She didn't know what she could say that would make a difference, but she would try. Even if she could only give him someone to share his misery with for a little while, that would be something.

She was standing in front of the apartment door. She hadn't realized that she had been standing in front of it, didn't know how long she had been there. She straightened up and squared her shoulders, wiping a tear away. _Be strong_.

She knocked softly. There was no answer. She knocked again.

Silence.

Cindy reached out and tried the door. The knob slowly turned in her hand. She pushed in gently, almost afraid of what she would find. She didn't think Alec would kill himself, but she had just enough doubt to scare her. She'd seen the way Max and Alec had looked at each other. You didn't get over losing something like that.

She found him in the bedroom—wonderfully, miserably alive. The bed was unmade. One of Max's shirts was crumpled up at the bottom of bed, where she must have tossed it before she'd left, not knowing that she was never coming back.

Alec was standing beside the window, fingers absently toying with something. As soon as she stepped across the threshold, he slipped it into his pocket. Even though he was by the window, he wasn't watching the snow, which had begun to fall about an hour earlier. He didn't seem to be looking at anything.

He certainly wasn't dressed for a funeral. He was wearing dark, baggy jeans and a long-sleeved black thermal. Though it had only been a couple of days, they seemed to hang on him, as if the loss of Max had taken a physical piece of him. His black combat boots were well worn and scuffed from hard use. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction, while his jaw was shadowed with stubble. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen stubble on Alec. They didn't call him "pretty boy" for nothin'.

He didn't look at her. His lips twisted in a bitter smile. "So, they sent you now, huh?"

Cindy sniffed and swallowed hard, but the words still came out rough. "Thought I should come, talk to you a bit. Thought maybe…" She had to pause as her voice wavered. "…maybe we could help each other work through this."

"Is that so?" Alec turned his head slightly toward her, a hint of a sneer on his face. She'd never seen him look so harsh. "Well, you thought wrong."

"Alec…"

"Don't bother trying to convince me, because it won't work. I'm not going."

"You need to be there, boo." She sniffed again, trying to get a grip on herself. She couldn't break into tears in front of Alec. That would be all kinds of wrong. "We need you there."

"No," he snapped, slamming his fist down against the windowsill and making her jump. He turned toward her, and she couldn't help but take an involuntary step back. This wasn't grief, it was straight up anger, and she wasn't prepared for how hot it burned.

As he closed the distance between them, her heart began to pound. He stood over her, glaring at her angrily. "I won't go and mourn for a woman who isn't dead."

His eyes were bloodshot and wide; she'd never been afraid of him, even back when Max had been bad-mouthing him twenty-four seven, but she was a little afraid of him now. His eyes… they weren't the eyes of a man whose brain was properly hinged.

She took another step back, frowning at him. "But they said… they said they heard you say…"

"Those bastards heard exactly what I needed them to hear so they'd let me out of that fucking room. That's all."

After he'd run out of steam trying to break his way out of Isolation, he'd switched to a new tactic, one for which he was much better suited. He'd given up trying to convince them. He wasn't even sure if they had believed it, but it had been enough to get them to let him go, and that was all that mattered.

"I promised Mole I would behave, but I didn't promise any more than that, and frankly, it's more than he goddamn deserves."

"But…" Cindy shook her head, trying to match up what she knew with what Alec believed. "I _saw_ her."

"No. You saw Sam. White killed _Sam_. It's her body we found in the tunnel, not Max's. White has her. He has Max, Cindy. She's still alive."

Could he be right? She wanted him to be right, would give her left arm for him to be right, but how could he be? All of the evidence pointed in one direction, but Alec was firmly pointed in the other. He was adding two and two together and coming up with five; no matter how much you wanted it to be the right answer, you couldn't change the math.

"But… I called her phone. It was in the box, with the clothes she'd been wearing. And she was with her crew. They said Brand saw…"

Alec interrupted her again, insistent. "He was confused."

Cindy began to think that Alec wasn't even hearing what she was saying. She reached out to touch his shoulder. "I know you're hurtin', boo, but you can't keep goin' on like this."

"You have no idea what I'm feeling," Alec shot back, jerking away from her.

One by one, they had turned against him. All the people he thought he could trust. All the people he thought had trusted him. Each and every one had turned against him.

He really was alone.

Original Cindy wrapped her arms around herself. She didn't know what else she could say to him. "I'm so sorry, Alec," she said. The tears she'd been struggling to hold back began to fall.

"Don't," he scolded, leveling a finger at her. "Don't you do that. Don't you cry for her. She's not dead. You want to cry, you go down there and cry for Sam. God knows nobody else will."

Cindy hastily wiped away her tears. "You really believe it, don't you?"

"Yes," he said. There was no hesitation. No doubt.

"What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not wrong," he said, and in his eyes she saw the absolute conviction of his belief.

Cindy had to look away. She couldn't do it. She couldn't get her hopes up only to have them crushed. If he was right, if by a one-in-a-million chance Max was still alive, then she would owe him a thousand apologies, but until then, she couldn't take that blind leap.

"I'm not wrong," Alec repeated, wanting to convince her but already knowing that he could not.

"But what if you are?" she asked quietly, hesitant to hurt him but afraid it would hurt more if he didn't take this chance. "Don't you want a chance to say goodbye?"

Alec's eyes darkened, pupils dilating until only a thin rim of hazel-green remained. His jaw clenched, and she could see the muscles underneath working as his teeth ground together. He moved to walk past her and out the door, but he stopped before he crossed the threshold, turning his head back toward her.

"That's not Max down there, and nothing you can say will convince me that it is." He hesitated, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to say anything else, but then he said it anyway. "I thought at least _you_ would believe me," he said, his tone both hurt and accusing.

And then he was gone.

Original Cindy closed her eyes and let the tears fall. She wished she had the courage to believe him.

* * *

It took Original Cindy a while to pull herself together. By the time she reached the others, they were ready to begin. She went to stand by Sketchy, nose and eyes were red from more than the cold. Snow frosted his hair, making it hang down in damp strands. Poor, foolish boy—he hadn't remembered to wear a hat.

Sketchy put an arm around Original Cindy, which he knew would normally have earned him a beat down, but he thought he might get away with it this time. She looked like she needed it. The truth was, he needed it as much as she did.

"He's not coming?" he asked her.

Cindy shook her head and used tissue to wipe nose. "No."

Sketchy hung his head, his damp hair hanging down into his eyes. "Man. This sucks out loud."

"Tell me 'bout it. Sky and the others come?"

"Yeah. They're back over there," he said, pointing toward a group standing a bit apart from the main transgenic population. "I think Mole freaks 'em out."

"Mole freak everybody out. Is that Normal?" she asked, squinting over at the crowd.

"Hey, I think it is. Wow. I always thought he sorta hated Max."

"Nah," said Cindy, reaching in her pocket for a tissue to wipe her running nose. Crying sure made a mess of your face. "He's all bark, our Normal. Deep down, I think he had a soft spot for her."

"Where is Alec?"

Cindy and Sketchy both turned, surprised to find Joshua standing behind them. They hadn't heard him approach.

"He's not comin', doggy dog," Cindy said, reaching out to put a hand on Joshua's arm.

The transhuman looked down at her, his big eyes full of wounded confusion. "Why?"

Joshua hadn't heard about Alec. He hadn't heard anything since the moment that new little X8 girl (Daisy? Pansy? How could he have forgotten her name?) burst into his class ten minutes late, shouting that Max was dead. He'd stepped out the door just in time to see Alec carrying her body through the street. In that moment, he didn't just see Max. He saw his brother Isaac, he saw Annie, he the saw dozens of faces from the Manticore basement, all taken from him. Every time he thought he had lost enough for one lifetime, there was always something more to lose.

After that, things got a little hazy.

For the past couple of days, he'd refused to see anyone. He was blind to the outside world, buried in grief and his obsession with painting the shroud in which they had wrapped Max. Locked in his studio, her death had been his sole obsession. Now that he had stepped into the outside world, nothing seemed real. Maybe it was the snow. It made everything seem like a dream.

"Why Alec not come?" he asked again, worried now. He'd let himself get so wrapped up in everything that he'd lost that he'd forgotten what he still had.

"He can't accept it, Josh," she said quietly, hoping that the others wouldn't overhear. She was afraid that if they knew Alec had lied to them, they would lock him back up again. She couldn't do that to him. He may have been mad at her, but he was still her friend and the man Max had loved.

"It is… very hard to accept," Joshua said, stumbling over the words, voice failing him at the end.

Original Cindy went over and wrapped her arms around him. He returned it, his long coat enveloping her as he wrapped his arms around her, until she almost disappeared.

"We got to stick together, big guy," she said, the words muffled by his bulk. Her tears soaked into his shirt. "We can get through this if we stick together."

* * *

Kazi stood with her hands buried deep in the pockets of her coat and her hat pulled snuggly down over her dark locks. Her eyes were downcast.

She stood alone.

She really screwed up with Dalton. She'd hardly even seen him, much less talked to him, since she'd told him about Max. He'd been avoiding her during the one time she really didn't think he should be alone. When she had finally managed to talk to him, they'd had a fight. She'd only wanted to help, but he hadn't wanted it. Then she'd gone and pushed when she should've backed down. She hadn't meant to. She had a habit of acting first and thinking about it later, which had gotten her reprimanded more than once in her Manticore days.

She was thinking now that maybe they'd had a point.

Oscar stepped up beside her, wrapped in the long military-style coat he wore while stationed on border patrol. Kazi's jaw clenched at the site of him. He was a big part of the reason she'd fought with Dalton. It wasn't Oscar's fault, but that didn't really signify in the mind of a fifteen-year-old girl.

"Have you seen Dalton?" Oscar asked as he scanned the crowd. "I can't find him anywhere."

"No," Kazi said, not looking at him because she was afraid her face would give her feelings away. She'd never been good at concealing them. "I haven't seen him for the past two days."

At her tone, Oscar turned to look at her, taking in her clenched jaw and stiff posture. Her reaction made him angry on Dalton's behalf. "Cut him some slack, Kazi. He's having a rough time with this."

"I wouldn't know. He won't talk to _me_," she said, the emphasis on the last word turning it into an accusation.

"Hey, I didn't…"

"Oscar. Kazi. Where's Dalton?" Mole called out, walking up and interrupting the X6s. Oscar was grateful; now was not the time for a scene.

"I'm sure he'll be here, sir," Oscar responded before Kazi could say anything, automatically drawing himself up to attention.

Mole frowned at him. "Don't 'sir' me, kid. I don't like it."

"Yes, sir."

Mole rolled his eyes and turned away. He quickly forgot about Dalton; he had bigger concerns, like keeping the city from falling apart. The transhuman looked to his left, where Joshua stood back a ways with Original Cindy and Sketchy. Alec was not with them. He hadn't really expected him to be, but he'd figured it couldn't have hurt to have Original Cindy take a shot at convincing him to come.

He looked up.

Somehow, he'd known Alec would be there.

He was sitting on the ledge of its tallest building, in Max's spot. Mole could see the outline of his form as snow fell down around him. Not exactly present, but accounted for. It wasn't what they had hoped Alec would do, but it was probably the best they could expect.

Wil came to stand beside him, and the two of stared up at the outline of Alec's form.

"You still have someone watching him?" Mole asked.

"Yep," Wil said simply.

Mole nodded his approval. He turned back around to see Max's body being carried in on a litter. His mood darkened. Soon, he would have to watch a friend burn.

"Let's get started."

* * *

Dalton stood at the top of the stairwell, looking out through the open door across the roof. He'd been there for a while, watching Alec. The funeral went on without either of them.

Zev had told him that Alec had accepted Max's death, but he didn't believe it. Not for a minute. He knew Alec, probably better than anyone except Max. There was no way he would do a complete 180 out of the blue. He was not the kind of guy that would change his mind that easily.

Seeing Alec sitting there, though, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, made Dalton doubt himself. He'd been doing a lot of that in the past couple of days. Doubting.

They'd been through a lot together, him and Alec. He remembered the first time Alec had acknowledged him, during the siege at Jam Pony. He'd gotten such a charge when the larger-than-life X5 had assigned him as a lookout. After that, he'd basically followed Alec around like a puppy, though it was kind of embarrassing to admit it. He'd made a nuisance of himself, but instead of brushing him off as just an annoying kid, Alec had taken him under his wing, which had earned Dalton's undying devotion. And then there was the whole incident with the cure. After that, Alec became more than just a mentor. He became friend. Brother.

You didn't turn your back on your brother.

Dalton stepped out onto the roof.

"Alec?" he called out softly.

He didn't know how it was possible while he was sitting still, but Alec seemed to shrink away from him. "Go away," the X5 said, his voice deep and thick.

"I want to help," Dalton said, taking a few tentative steps closer.

Alec stiffened. "You want to help? Leave me alone. That's how you can _help_."

He was buckling under the weight of everything that had happened and everything that still needed to be done. The rings in his closed fist mocked him. Just when he'd finally worked up the courage to ask Max for forever, she'd been snatched away from him. Gone.

But not dead. Not dead.

No one would believe him. No one. They were all so helpful, offering their support, a shoulder to cry on—anything and everything except what he actually needed. He needed to save her, had to save her, but he would have to do it on his own.

He had no idea where she was, what White had done to her, or even how long she had to live. On top of that, before he could save her he had to first break out of Terminal city, which wouldn't be easy since the place was in lockdown, not to mention that they were watching him like a hawk. He'd use up precious time escaping from his own people. Once he did get out, and once he managed to track down where they were keeping her, he'd be one man against an unknown number of Familiars. He probably wouldn't stand a chance without backup, and they would probably both end up dying in the end, but still, he had to do it. Save her or die trying. There wasn't a third option.

Either way, they'd be together.

"If you're going after her, you're gonna need my help."

Alec froze. He turned slowly to face Dalton, not sure if he had heard what the kid had actually said or only what he had wanted to hear.

"What did you say?"

"I said you're gonna need my help to save Max."

Alec swung his legs back onto the roof and moved over to the young X6. "You believe me?" he asked, holding his breath, afraid to hope. "You believe she's still alive?"

Dalton made up his mind, once and for all. If there was anyone worth believing in, it was Alec.

"Yeah."

"Why?" _Why, when no one else will believe me?_

Dalton shrugged. "Because _you_ do. I figure if anybody knows for sure, it's you."

Alec closed his eyes as tears of relief welled up. Dalton believed him. Finally, someone _believed_ him. He wouldn't have to go it alone.

"So, what do we do now?" Dalton asked.

Alec opened his eyes. They seemed lit from within, fueled by renewed purpose and, for the first time, hope.

* * *

They went back to Max and Alec's apartment. Nothing overtly suspicious about that. The surveillance crew followed, but dropped back once they'd verified where Alec was going. They'd be watching the building, so they wouldn't be able to walk out the front, but Alec had a plan for that.

Earlier that day, Alec had broken through the wall that separated his apartment from the empty one next door. Although it was prime real estate, no one had wanted to take that one. Max and Alec did tend to get a bit noisy. No one had questioned Alec making all that racket because they assumed that he was working through his grief or something. Once in the other apartment, he had quietly cut through the drywall with a knife until he could access the main vertical heating duct. They'd use that to get to the basement, and then hopefully slip out undetected from there. But they had to go now, while most of TC was still milling around at the funeral.

Dalton jogged into Alec's bedroom. "Coast is as clear as it's going to get. As long as we're quiet, I think we…"

Dalton trailed off, eyes widening as he caught sight of Alec in the reflection of the mirror. He was settling a black cord over his neck, what must have been a pilfered boot lace. Dangling from the cord, two rings glinted in the dim light from the lamp. Smooth circlets, the kind he'd seen on the hands of ordinaries and in the movies.

Alec slipped the rings inside his shirt with a reverence that gave no doubt as to their significance. Dalton opened his mouth to say something, but the look on Alec's face when he turned around stopped him.

Those rings stood for everything that was at risk. Alec didn't need reminded of that.

As Alec pulled on his jacket, he slipped on the soldier as well, sinking down into that place inside himself that let him disconnect, so he could do what needed to be done without hesitation or remorse. It was a place he'd had to visit many times while a slave of Manticore—a place he'd sworn he'd never go to again.

He would do whatever it took to get Max back. If that meant once again becoming the killer Manticore had made him to be, then so be it. He'd worry about the stains on his soul later.

He grabbed his gun off of the dresser, checked the clip, then slid the weapon into his waistband.

"Let's move."

* * *

Logan Cale stamped the snow off of his boots as he struggled to open the door while holding an armload of firewood. Stupid to let it run out right before a snow storm, but he'd gotten sidetracked at his computer, as usual. He managed to finally get the door open and slipped inside, shivering as the difference in temperature hit him. He kicked the door shut with his foot, then turned to take to wood into the living room.

He let out a startled cry. There was a man, standing like a statue in the middle of his hall.

Logan dropped the wood, sending it clattering noisily to the floor. He pulled the gun that he now kept with him at all times, flicked off the safety, and aimed it at the intruder. He was about to demand to know who the guy was when his brain put the pieces together of what he was actually seeing.

"Alec?" he asked, so shocked that he forgot to lower the gun. He'd barely recognized him.

Alec's lips quirked slightly as he looked at gun still pointed at him, then back up at Logan. "You gonna shoot me?"

Logan blinked, then realized what he was doing. He clicked the safety back on and lowered the gun. "You scared the hell out of me!" he yelled. He tucked the gun back in his waistband and crouched to pick up the wood.

Logan expected a quick comeback, probably involving an insult or two, but he was surprised again when Alec just said, "Sorry."

He looked up at the X5 and then past him. "You're alone?" he asked, expecting to see someone with him like every other time Alec had visited him since he'd moved to this cabin well outside the city. He knew that Alec never went anywhere by himself these days. His brush with death had made him—or more likely, Max had forced him to be—a little less casual about his safety.

Alec nodded his head toward the window. "Dalton's outside."

Logan walked over to the big window in the living room, dropping the load of firewood in the rack near the fireplace on the way. He couldn't see anyone, which wasn't surprising; Dalton may have been a kid, but he was still a transgenic. "It's cold out there," Logan said, peering out into the snow, which appeared to be finally tapering off.

"It's safer that way," Alec said. When Logan turned and gave him a slightly alarmed look, he added, "For you. The kid still wants to beat you into a pulp." Logan raised his eyebrows at this. Alec shrugged. "He's very protective of me."

Logan's eyes narrowed as he caught his first true glimpse of Alec as he stepped into the light of the room. "I'm not trying to be a jerk, here, but you uh… you don't look so good."

Alec laughed, but it wasn't the type of laugh that Logan normally associated with the transgenic. This one was sharp, like broken glass. "That's the understatement of the century. I look like shit."

"Are you all right?" he asked, surprising himself when he realized that he was honestly concerned.

"No," the X5 said, sitting down on the edge of a large, overstuffed chair. He bent forward to rest his elbows on his knees and ran a hand through his damp, messy hair. "I'm not all right. I am so very far from all right."

Alec closed his bloodshot eyes for a moment, wishing there was time for sleep. Time, however, was something he did not have.

"I need your help."

* * *

Logan sat in stunned silence while Alec told him what had happened. The words poured out of the X5 as he paced, as if he were desperate to shed the burden of them as fast as he could. When he was done, Alec stopped pacing and turned to him, burning with frantic energy.

"I'd do the research myself, but I can't be gone too long. If I used the computers back at TC, they'd find out and probably lock me up again. And, to tell you the truth, I don't think I have the focus right now to do what needs to be done on that score."

Logan got up and moved across the room, sliding into the chair in front of his computer station. He was typing before he even sat down. "So you need me to help find her," he stated as his fingers flew across the keyboard.

Alec came up behind him. "You believe me?" he asked, incredulous. "Just like that? Without question?"

"Yes," Logan replied simply, his eyes glued to his screen.

Alec sat down on the edge of Logan's desk, more than a bit relieved that he wouldn't have to waste time trying to convince him. He shook his head. "Figures. The only person willing to believe me outright hates my guts."

"I don't hate you," Logan shot back immediately. His typing faltered as he caught the _bullshit_ look Alec was sending his way. "Okay, I _did_ hate you, but that's ancient history. For the most part," he qualified at the end.

Logan knew it was a sign of how messed up Alec really was right now that he let that one slide.

"So," Alec asked, "why do you believe me when everyone else thinks I'm nuts?"

Logan stopped typing and turned to him. "I thought Max was dead before, and I was wrong. I've learned not to jump to conclusions where she's concerned."

Logan spun his chair around and popped up out of it, moving swiftly over to the rack of shelves behind him that held equipment, external drives, hundreds of disks—everything an undercover cyberjournalist hacker needed. He began to flip through various disks, looking for one in particular.

"Hey," Alec exclaimed belatedly, standing and staring down at Logan's legs. "You're walking."

Without regular transgenic blood transfusions, Logan had been forced to rely on his exoskeleton to walk. Alec had finally noticed Logan's lack of hardware.

Logan smiled, continuing to flip through the disks. "Yeah. I volunteered for experimental procedure. Nanotechnology—real cutting edge stuff. Very extreme, very risky, but it paid off. They were able to repair the damage. It's all me now. I only use the exo when I need an extra boost."

"That's great," Alec said. "I'm happy for you, man."

The two of them fell into an awkward silence. They weren't used to dealing with each other outside of their usual insult-trading banter.

Alec stood suddenly. "I guess I should get going. We've got to get back before they realize we're gone."

"Wait," Logan said, moving back to the desk and grabbing a slip of paper. He scribbled down a number, then handed it to Alec. "It's my new number. Fully encrypted. I assume you don't want me contacting you at TC."

Alec nodded his thanks. "I'll be in touch."

He went to walk out of the room, but slowed as he caught sight of a woman's sweater hanging from the back of a chair. He reached out to touch it, fingers hesitating and drawing back before they made contact. "So…" he asked, "you and Asha. Are you…?"

Logan crossed his arms over his chest, feeling strangely defensive about his relationship with Asha. He'd always been defensive around Alec. Old habits died hard. "Yeah. We are."

Alec nodded, his mind drifting toward thoughts of Max. They'd only had a year. One short year, and all he could think of was all of the times he could have said _I love you_ and didn't. When he got her back—not _if_, but _when_—he promised himself that he would tell her every day.

His hand went to rest over the spot where a pair of rings weighed heavy against his chest.

"Don't let her slip away, Logan. Life's too short."

* * *

It didn't take Logan long to find out where they were keeping her. By the time Alec called him back four hours later, Logan had already decreased the list of possibilities to two. He'd been tracking what he suspected were Familiar holdings for quite some time now, and it had been easy to narrow the playing field giving the timing and geographic location of Max's abduction.

After a brief discussion, they had decided that the most likely place was an old water treatment facility out by Cedar Falls, which was about forty-five minutes away from Seattle. It was the only location that made sense, both close to Seattle yet secluded enough so White and his pals wouldn't have to worry about the neighbors. A place like that would also have been built sturdy. Lots of thick concrete and steel—strong enough to hold a genetically enhanced human.

He hoped to God they were right.

* * *

Alec caught the body of the second sentry Wil had assigned to watch him before he hit the ground, lowering him the rest of the way. They'd taken him out just like they'd taken the other—with Dalton acting as a distraction while Alec came up behind them with a hypo full of tranquilizer. He'd covered their mouths and held on tight until the drug had taken affect. Dalton had liberated it from Vash's supply, so it didn't take long; it was geared for transgenics.

The X6 jogged over to him as Alec pulled the body across the roof and into the stairwell. They didn't want to leave the guy out in the elements. "So we've got, what, about thirty until they wake up?" he asked.

Alec stood. "Yeah," he said distractedly. There was a strange look on his face. Dalton figured he must be thinking about Max again.

"We better get going then," Dalton said.

He'd only taken a few steps when he was jerked backward. An arm wrapped around his neck, pulling across so his head was forced sideways. He heard the unmistakable hiss of the hypospray before he felt the accompanying sting against his neck.

Alec had drugged him. He was going to leave him behind.

"No!" Dalton yelled angrily, tugging against Alec's grip, but it was useless. The X5 held on tight until the drug began to work its magic, and Dalton's legs buckled.

"I'm sorry," Alec said, lowering him to the floor gently, "but I can't let you come with me."

"You c-can't… do thisss…" Dalton managed, already feeling his words slur. He grabbed Alec's jacket and tried to hang on, but he was fading fast. He had to stop him. He couldn't let Alec do this on his own.

"I have to. Trust me, it's better this way." The look of betrayal in Dalton's eyes broke Alec's heart.

He'd thought long and hard about it, while he'd been waiting to call Logan. Dalton was only a kid, and, transgenic or not, a kid wouldn't make that much of a difference against the Familiars. Last time he'd dragged Dalton along on a mission, they'd walked into a trap, and Alec had almost gotten him killed. He couldn't risk that again. Not when he was knowingly walking into a dangerous situation where there was a good chance he wouldn't make it out alive.

"I'm sorry," Alec repeated as he carefully pried Dalton's fingers from his jacket. He reached up and ruffled the X6's hair lightly. "Wish me luck, okay?" he whispered. Then he turned his back on the only ally he had and blurred down the stairs.

"Don't…" Dalton called out weakly, reaching out one last time before he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

Joshua had been roaming the tunnels for hours.

After the funeral, he'd been able to think more clearly, and he began to wonder what exactly had happened with Alec. He'd cornered Luke to find out what was going on, figuring he would be the one most likely to give him a straight answer.

What Luke had told him about Alec had disturbed him greatly, so he'd come to the tunnels to think. Zev had let him pass, making him promise that he wouldn't go far.

Even after hours in the tunnels, he still didn't know what to think. Had Alec really gone crazy for a while, thinking that Max was still alive when everyone else thought that she was dead? Would they think _he_ was crazy too if he believed? _Would_ he be? They were all so certain she was dead. No one doubted it… except Alec, at first. Supposedly he had come to terms with her death, but had he really? Wouldn't he have come to her funeral if he truly believed she was gone?

Joshua came to a stop just shy of a junction and reached up to rub his temples. Too many questions, not enough answers. It was enough to give you a headache.

Just then, something blurred past the junction. He reached out automatically to grab it.

Alec came to a skidding halt, his momentum jerking him around until he was face to face with Joshua. Before he could react, the dogman's hands closed tightly over his upper arms, and his friend pushed him backwards until he was pressed up against the side of the tunnel.

"No," Joshua growled. "Alec must not leave."

"Let go of me."

He shook his head. "Won't lose you too."

"I don't have time for this." Alec tried to break Joshua's grip, but he couldn't—at least, not without using more force than he wanted to use. He'd used the last of the tranquilizer on the tunnel sentry he'd come across, so that option was out. "I don't want to hurt you, Joshua, but I will if you don't let me go."

Joshua shrugged as if it didn't signify. "Already hurting."

He should have just done it—knocked him out and run like hell—but he couldn't. If it had been Mole or Wil or even Zev, he wouldn't have hesitated… he might have even enjoyed it a little bit. But this was Joshua. He couldn't hit Joshua.

"We've been friends for a long time," he said slowly. He had to remain calm. When everyone thought you were crazy, the number one thing you had to do was remain calm.

"We have," Joshua said, and Alec could feel his grip loosen slightly.

"And you trust me, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Then trust me now, because I've never needed it more in my life." He grabbed fists full of Joshua's coat and pulled him closer. "Max is alive. Do you hear me? She is _alive_. I know that as sure as I know that water is wet and the sky is blue. White has her stashed away somewhere. He's doing God knows what to her even as we speak. I can't leave her there."

His voice faltered. _Don't think about it_, he told himself. _Focus on getting her out, and nothing else._

He needed Joshua to believe him. Just one more person to tell him he wasn't crazy. "I promised, Josh," he pleaded roughly. "I promised I wouldn't leave her. Please don't make me leave her."

Joshua stared down at him with his big puppy dog eyes for what seemed like forever. Just when Alec thought he would have to strike his friend down and most likely hate himself for all of eternity, Joshua spoke.

"One condition," he said. Alec looked wary. "Joshua go too," he added.

"It will be dangerous," Alec said, shaking his head even as his mind raced, considering the possibilities. Taking Dalton along was one thing, but Joshua.... He wasn't a kid, and he was more than capable of taking care of himself. It was still a risk, but one that he was more willing to take.

Joshua grabbed him by the shoulders. "All the more reason to go. Make sure you come back alive."

Alec sagged in relief, his head falling forward until it butted against Joshua's chest. "Thank you."

* * *

The two of them ran through the tunnels, side by side. They didn't care about avoiding the surveillance cameras. Speed was of the essence.

Joshua's feet flew across the floor of the tunnel as he did the best he could to keep up with the faster X5. Wherever Alec went, he would follow. He wasn't sure if he truly believed Max was alive, but he believed that Alec believed it. That was enough for him.

* * *

A/N: Reviews fuel the muse.


	8. Ch 7: Abandoned

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: I would like to thank everyone who has stuck with me and patiently waited for each chapter of this story. I can't find time to write like I used to.

Warning: Language, violence, and some serious liberties with the medical stuff. I tried to do some minor research, but it's probably wildly inaccurate, so please suspend your disbelief.

* * *

Chapter 7: Abandoned

She'd lost track of time again. Spending hour after endless hour strapped to a chair with nothing to distract you from your own thoughts could do that to you. She almost wished White would come back in and slap her around a bit—at least then she'd have something else to focus on. Something other than… _it_. Didn't look like that was going to happen, though; White and the bitch doctor had decided to switch up to the mental torture.

She was beginning to think that it was working.

She hadn't seen anyone all day—night, whatever it was—if you didn't count the tiny little thing floating in the glowing ooze. (Not _thing_. _Baby._) No White. No mad doctor. No techs buzzing about, checking readings. No thick-necked guards to escort her for a pee break… not that she needed one. She hadn't had any food or water since they'd captured her. They'd had her on a nutrient drip for a while, but they'd even cut that off. She had nothing left in her _to_ pee. Hell, she was lucky she had enough blood left in her to keep her alive, the way Gaines had been doing the vampire thing on and off for the past couple of days. Her head was buzzing, and she was as weak as a newborn kitten.

Which, of course, was probably the point.

With nothing else to do, her eyes roamed the room, taking in doors, monitors, equipment, a cabinet full of color-coded vials, scalpels and knives and syringes, all frustratingly out of reach. But no matter how much she tried to avoid looking at it, her gaze would always find its way back to that softly glowing chamber.

_Her baby. _God_._

She closed her eyes. She would have cried if she'd had any moisture in her left to give.

"You haven't been sitting there all day waiting for me to rescue you, have you?"

Max's eyes snapped open and rolled toward the sound of the voice, a voice she couldn't be hearing. But he was there, somehow. Suddenly there, casually leaning against the doorframe as if he wasn't surrounded by a building full of people that wanted him dead.

"Alec?" she called out, her entire body straining towards him.

He smiled at her… that crooked, half-wicked smile of his that had always made her ache inside. "Hey, Maxie."

"Alec. Thank God," she sighed as she fell back against the chair, weak with relief. "How'd you find me? Wait, never mind that. Just get me out of here."

She didn't ask him why he was alone, or why he seemed so casual about the situation, or why he was wearing the exact same clothes he'd been wearing the last time she had seen him. Part of her brain registered these facts, facts that should have made her pause, but the rest of her was too tired to care. Alec had come for her and that was all that mattered.

He pushed away from the wall and ambled towards her, his hands buried in his pockets. He didn't move to release her, but instead moved toward the stasis chamber. As he circled it, hand reaching out to gently brush the surface in an almost caress, Max's heart began to pound.

"Alec…"

"How could you do it?" he asked, straightening and turning back toward her. "How could you risk our child?"

"I didn't know," she said, shaking her head as she tugged feebly against the restraints.

"You let them take our baby, Max."

"I didn't know!" Max cried out, straining in earnest now. If she could just touch him, she could somehow make him understand.

"You _should_ have known," he accused, turning his back on her. "You should have protected him."

Max fell back against the chair again, defeated. "I know," she whispered. Her eyes burned, but no tears would come. "I'm sorry."

Alec spun around. "Damn right you're sorry. Sitting in that chair waiting to die while that psycho bitch plans to do God only knows what to our child."

"I wasn't…"

"What are you going to do, Maxie?" he interrupted, leaning over her to get right up in her face. "Just sit there and watch our baby die?"

Max felt whatever blood was left in her stir as her anger flickered back to life. "No."

"Then what are you waiting for?" he asked, pushing back away from her, his hazel eyes blazing.

Max flexed her arms and tugged against the bonds that held her wrists. She tried again and again, but it was no use. The chair was too strong, and she was too weak. She doubted she could have broken the restraints even if she'd been at full strength. She sagged back against the chair, out of breath from her efforts. She rolled her head toward Alec. "A little help would be nice."

Alec held his hands up. "No can do, sweetheart. You're dead to me, remember?"

"Right," she said with a sigh. "I forgot." She began to tug weakly against the restraints again, this time applying resistance at different angles, testing for weak spots. Unfortunately, the only weak thing in the room was _her_.

"That's okay, Maxie," the figment of her imagination told her. "You've had a rough couple of days."

Max laughed—a weird, tired kind of laugh that ended in a sob. "Am I going crazy?"

"Probably," Alec said, smiling his 1000-watt smile at her. What she wouldn't give to see the real thing.

"So how am I going to get outta here?" she asked him, collapsing in exhaustion after only a couple minutes of exertion.

"You'll think of something. You always do." He leaned over and kissed her forehead, and she could have sworn that she felt the touch of his lips. Maybe she really was going crazy. "Now sleep," he said. "If you're going to get out of this chair, you need to regain your strength."

Max's eyes began to droop, but she fought it. Alec was there with her; even though she knew it wasn't real, the illusion of him was better than nothing at all. She craved the sight of him so badly it was almost a physical pain. But even as she struggled to keep her eyes open, he began to back away, melding into the shadows.

"Don't go," she murmured, sleep almost claiming her.

"Don't worry, Maxie," his voice whispered out of the darkness as he faded away. "We'll be together soon."

"_Soon_," she whispered, letting her eyes fall closed. At peace for the first time in days, she slipped into a deep sleep.

* * *

A strange squealing noise woke her. She opened her eyes, but then immediately shut them again as the overhead fluorescents blinded her. Unable to shield her eyes, she twisted her head and blinked rapidly, trying to track the sound of the noise. As her vision cleared, she saw Dr. Gaines pushing the cart holding the stasis chamber. She was pushing it toward the door.

"What's going on? Where are you taking it?" Max asked. She couldn't say _him_; calling it _him_ out loud would make what was happening that much more real. Would make the fact that Gaines was taking away her baby that much more real.

The doctor paused and turned back toward Max. There was a hint of a smile on her face. "I'm relocating the subject to another lab. Until Ames White turns you over to me fully, the fetus will make excellent source material for my experiments." She turned and once again began to push the cart toward the door.

"What? Wait… no. Get back here."

"I'm afraid you don't run the show around here, 452. I do." Each click of the doctor's low heels again the linoleum was like a gunshot.

"You can't do this!"

"I believe I can. Quite easily in fact."

Max strained against her bonds so hard that the metal creaked. "Gaines!! Get back here! Gaines!!" Max's eyes were wide and panicked as she watched the doctor's back as she pushed through the door. "You do anything to it, I swear to God, I'll kill you! I will KILL YOU!!"

"Sedate her until I get back," Dr. Gaines called out calmly to the tech in the room.

Max struggled, fighting to free herself. Metal groaned. Suddenly worried, the tech hurriedly slipped the needle of the syringe into her IV port and depressed the plunger.

"NO!" Max screamed. Cold ran up Max's arm and throughout her body, numbing her. Her struggles became weaker until they faded away. "No…" she said weakly, fingers stretching, reaching toward the door.

Then her eyes rolled up into her head, and she passed out.

* * *

White watched his captive through the observation panel, his arms crossed over his chest, thoughtful. 452 had become more trouble than she was worth. She wasn't going to break. No matter what they did to her, she wouldn't talk. She wasn't going to give up Terminal City, and White was beginning to think that maybe she didn't know where his son was.

He needed to end this.

"Load her up with truth serum," he said without preamble when Dr. Gaines came to stand next to him.

The doctor shook her head. "We already tried that. Her metabolism makes her resistant to…"

"Then quadruple the dose," White snapped. He could feel the beginnings of a headache buzzing behind his eyes.

"I don't know what that will do to her. I can't promise that she would survive it. Even if she does, it could compromise her mental state. If she has the information you want, she may not be capable of relating it."

White closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to banish the coming headache. "I'm tired, Liz. I want this over with, one way or another." He left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Elizabeth Gaines smiled. Ames had given up. This was a last ditch effort, and they both knew it. Whether it worked or not no longer mattered to her. The transgenic known as 452 would soon be turned over to her, and then her real work would begin.

It wouldn't be long until she developed an airborne version of the virus and end this cold war for good. She would become the savior of their cause. Her rightful place among the leaders of the Conclave would be secured.

She looked through the window to where 452 waited.

Only one last obstacle stood in her way.

* * *

Max jerked awake with a stinging slap to her face. She blinked a couple of times to get her eyes to focus; her vision cleared in time to see the hand flying toward her again. Her head rocked to the side with the force of the blow.

"I'm awake already, bitch," she muttered to Gaines, spitting a glob of blood on the floor. She straightened in the chair and saw that White was in the room again. "Oh look, the gang's all here."

She had hoped she'd be able to come up with a plan before they'd started in on her again, but she should have known better. Her luck had seriously sucked lately, and it wasn't likely to change anytime soon.

Dr. Gaines ignored the insult, instead grabbing Max's head and pulling up her eyelids, shining a light in them to check the responsiveness of her pupils. Max tried to move her head away, if only to be contrary, but Gaines' grip was like iron. Sometimes Max forgot that the primly-dressed woman was a Familiar.

"We're good to go," Gaines said to the room in general. She picked a large syringe off of the tray.

"You guys are like a broken record," Max taunted. "Torture, drugs, torture, drugs. Can't you come up with anything else?" She really wanted them to come up with something else, something that didn't involve drugs. She would need a clear head if she was going to figure out a way out of this.

Dr. Gaines continued to ignore her, much like she would ignore the screeching of a lab rat. She flicked the syringe and squirted a small amount of fluid out to get rid of any air bubbles, then slid the needle into the IV port and depressed the plunger.

Max could feel the drug traveling up her vein, blazing a path of fire through her arm. It was a familiar feeling, bringing back memories of the last time they had tried to drug her to get what they wanted. But something about this felt different. Worse. Her heart began to pound. She tried to control it—a rapid heartbeat would only make the drug travel faster—but she couldn't. Something was wrong. She felt her blood pulse through her brain as the fire began to travel up her neck.

Then her vision went black and every muscle in her body seized.

"She's convulsing," Dr. Gaines commented. White moved forward, presumably to tell her to do something about it. She'd had enough of him telling her how to do her job. She held up a hand and sent him a look that said just that. "Let her ride it out for a minute."

A minute turned into two, then three. Max's body continued to seize, only the whites of her eyes visible.

"_Gaines_," White said sharply.

"10 mg of Diazepam," the doctor ordered the tech, finally moving forward to take action. The tech slapped a new syringe into her open hand. With a little more force and a lot more pleasure than necessary, Gaines buried the needle deeply in the muscle tissue of Max's thigh and depressed the plunger.

Thanks to Max's enhanced metabolism, the drug quickly took effect. After a minute, the spasms in her muscles began to subside. Finally, Max's eyes slid shut and her body sagged into the chair. The doctor checked her readings, then peeked under her eyelids.

"She's out," the woman said, turning toward White expectantly. She wanted to get on with her project.

"Damn it," White hissed. He'd taken a gamble by increasing the dosage, and it hadn't paid off. 452, that bitch, she'd found a way to beat him again.

Well, he wasn't ready to give up yet.

"Try it again in a couple of hours," he said, staring intently at 452, as if he could somehow see into her brain and get the information he wanted.

"You said that you would…" Dr. Gaines began in protest, but trailed off at the look White gave her. "Fine. We'll decrease the dosage by 25% and try again."

"Good. Notify me when you're ready."

* * *

She awoke slowly this time, and it was a struggle. She felt like she was trying to crawl out of a deep hole, but the sides kept crumbling in and sending her back down into the dark.

Her body ached all over. She felt so tired that she could have gone right back to sleep, if only she'd had that luxury. But she knew without a doubt that time was running out. Sooner or later, White would tire of the game, and then she'd be in real trouble. She was pretty sure that White would turn her over to the mad doctor, and that would be all kinds of bad.

She had to get out. Now.

Max kept her eyes slits and her breathing heavy and even as she scanned the room. At a casual glance, she would still appear to be unconscious.

She focused first on the guard in the hall. She knew one was out there; she'd heard his booted feet (she was pretty sure it was a guy, from the sound of the footfalls) moving up and down the hall over and over during the past couple of days. Standard patrol. She listened to him go back and forth several times, trying to gauging the timing of his route. It took a bit of effort; residual fuzziness kept creeping through her brain. From the sound of it, the hall outside the door was pretty long. She'd probably have a two minute window when the guard would be out of earshot.

Then she shifted her focus, returning it to the room around her. There was a lone tech monitoring her, sitting across the room at the lab station. He was busy, buzzing back and forth between various pieces of equipment on the counter—Gaines must have put him to work. His back was turned, and he was working with something that was making a lot of noise. A centrifuge maybe? Whatever it was, it would cover any sounds she made trying to pull free, as long as she was careful.

Max followed the internal countdown in her head, waiting until the guard in the hall would be close to being out of earshot. Then she began to make her move.

She twisted her right arm and flexed it, almost hyperextending the joint. The action made her skin pull painfully tight, straining the freshly scabbed wounds from where Gaines had been cutting on her. With a zing of pain, the skin split. Fresh blood welled up and began to trickle down her arm, which was what she had been going for. She alternately relaxed and clenched her fist, making the blood flow faster until it coated her forearm and wrist. She twisted the wrist in the shackle, slicking it with her blood.

She glanced over at the tech, but his back was still turned. For how long, though? She had to hurry.

Max pulled her arm back, hoping that the blood would allow her to slip free. But of course it couldn't be that easy. Manticore had designed it to hold transgenics, after all. She tugged again, with the same result. The timer in her head kept ticking away the seconds, tracking the time until the guard made his way back. She was losing too much time. It was now or never.

Max clenched her teeth and wrenched hard. She heard a small pop, followed by a throb of pain. Success. She pulled again, eyes going wide as the metal cuffs dug into her newly-dislocated thumb. She focused on breathing through her nose, channeling the pain to some place deep inside her where she could lock it away and ignore it.

She yanked hard. The flesh scraped off of the sides of her hand as it finally slipped free. Max slumped back into the chair in relief.

It was then that she noticed the noise was dying.

Max flicked her eyes over to the tech. He was glancing at his watch. He'd probably want to check on her any second. And she only had one hand free. Unless he was a complete idiot—and she wasn't that lucky—he couldn't fail to notice it. And she doubted he would sit there politely and wait until she undid her other arm and her legs.

Shit.

She had no time to think of a better plan. She just had to hope that he would buy it. She placed her bloodied arm back on the armrest, hand sitting overtop of the metal cuff so that at first glance it would look like she was still secure. _Please_, she thought, _I deserve a break here_. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then put on a show.

She'd had seizures often enough in her life to know how to fake one. The fact that they'd induced one earlier with that drug would hopefully make the tech more likely to believe that this was a repeat. She rolled her eyes up into her head and jerked her body spastically, making soft grunting noises. She started off slow, but then ramped it up until she was sure the tech would hear.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn. She began to make choking noises, gurgling a bit so it would sound like she was drowning in her own saliva. She heard him curse softly and scramble for supplies in a drawer. She held her breath, purposely turning her face red to add to the affect. When he finally approached her, he was pushing a rolling tray full of medical supplies. He grabbed one of those metal thingies they used to get your tongue out of the way and a plastic tube and moved toward her.

He was totally buying what she was selling. And, fortunately for her, he hadn't called for help before he decided to take action. Probably wanted to impress the boss lady by taking care of it himself. Stupid mistake.

When he bent over her to try to clear her airway, she reached up and grabbed him by the neck. He may have been a tech, but he was still a Familiar, and he reacted like one. He dropped the equipment and swung his fist, landing a hard punch to her cheekbone.

Max's grip on him held, fueled by extreme desperation. She yanked hard, slamming his head down right on top of the metal cuff still holding her left arm. The tech's body sagged to the floor. Blood began to pool around his head from a large gash on his forehead.

She heard the sound of booted feet in the hall—hurried, but not running. The guard must have heard something, thought he'd check it out.

Max pressed her free hand against her leg and pushed, grunting as her thumb snapped back into place. She reached over and pulled the bolt for the cuff on her other hand, then bent forward and pulled each bolt to the legs cuffs simultaneously. By will alone, she managed to push herself out of the chair and stand.

The door opened, the guard calling out, "Everything okay in here, Sullivan?" before he'd cleared the door. Then his eyes were widening as he caught sight of his comrade on the floor.

He started to raise his gun, but he didn't have the benefit of transgenic speed or massive amounts of adrenalin pumping through his system. Max had both. She grabbed the rolling tray and sent it spinning toward him at breakneck speed. By the time he had stepped aside to dodge it, she was already behind him.

She grabbed him by the strap of his weapon, which had still been slung over one shoulder. She yanked hard, the gun pinning his arms against his body as she simultaneously kicked out the back of his knee. As he came down, she yanked down on the strap, adding momentum to his fall. He landed flat on his back with a hard smack, his breath rushing out of him on impact. Before he could recover, Max went to one knee, fist coming down as she went. She landed a blow to the side of his head that knocked him out cold.

That quick, it was over.

She stood, hair hanging in her eyes and breathing hard as she scanned the room. She was waiting for someone else to come at her, almost wanted someone to come at her so she could kick some ass and maybe burn off a bit of the rage burning inside of her. But no one came, and it was a good thing, because anger and desperation were all she had to fuel her… and she wasn't out of the woods yet. She had to hold onto it a little longer.

She grabbed a roll of gauze from a nearby cabinet and hastily wrapped it around her bloody arm. She looked down on the men, taking a moment to think. They were both still breathing, and they could keep breathing for all she cared, as long as they didn't get in her way.

Her eyes narrowed. She had an idea.

* * *

Max slipped out of the room, now wearing the tech's lab coat over the scrubs they'd put her in. Her hair was pulled back in a hasty bun. She wouldn't pass on close up inspection—she couldn't hide the bruises and cuts on her face, or her bare feet—but she hoped that if someone spotted her from a distance, they'd think she was just another tech.

The hall was empty. For once, something went in her favor. She took a couple of steps, heading down to the left, then stumbled as her head swam. She caught herself against the wall and leaned heavily as she fought off a wave of nausea. That damn drug—now that the adrenalin had worn off, she was feeling the aftereffects of it. They must have given her a hell of a lot for it to still be affecting her. She couldn't think straight.

She had something to do. Something important. Something more than just getting out…

Her body began to tremble. Covered in a thin sheen of sweat, her transgenic metabolism worked to purge the remains of the drug from her system. A few seconds later, it went about it quite literally.

Max doubled over and heaved. It was bad timing, but she couldn't do anything about it. She felt as if she was turning inside out as her stomach gave up its meager contents, mostly bile and blood. She spat, grimacing at the taste in her mouth. She went to wipe her lips with the back of her hand, then froze as she remembered.

The stasis chamber. The baby.

What had Gaines' said? _Source material._

Max shoved herself upright, stumbling for a moment until she got her feet under her. She didn't feel the pain of her protesting body. Her entire focus was centered on that one thing that she had to do.

She moved down the hall, looking in windows, checking doorways.

Searching.

* * *

Dr. Elizabeth Gaines and three of her staff walked into the room to find the two Familiars tied to the base of the chair that should have held 452, now empty.

The doctor smacked her clipboard angrily against her leg. "Sound the alarm," she said coldly, spinning on her heel and storming from the room, in search of Ames White.

* * *

She didn't know where to look. There were so many doors. Who designed a place with so many doors, anyway? Every time she looked behind one, there was nothing. Just another empty lab or a room full of junk. She figured it must be the middle of the night or something, because she hadn't run into any Familiars as of yet.

She was checking the handle on the door of yet another locked room when the alarms went off.

"Dammit," Max hissed, then she gave up on being quiet. She kicked the door in, stumbling into the room as she lost her balance. Her hair slipped from its bun and spilled down around her shoulders. Her head was spinning again, and she had to cover her mouth to keep from spewing.

When she was finally able to look up, she saw another empty lab. She spun and moved across the hall, kicking in the door opposite. A room full of lockers.

Max leaned heavily against the doorframe and closed her eyes. She needed to rest. Just for a minute. Catch her breath and try not to puke again. Then maybe she could get her brain to work and think of a new plan. The current one sucked.

"Don't move," she heard a disembodied voice say, coming from somewhere behind her.

She opened her eyes and turned her head slowly. At the end of the hall was a small group of Familiars, each one of them with a gun trained on her. She could've taken cover in the locker room, but she assumed there were no other exits from the room. She'd be trapped, and then they could take her at their leisure.

She wasn't going down like that. No way. If they wanted to take her, they'd have to fucking shoot her. At this point, she'd rather end up on a slab then back in that chair.

Without warning, Max spun and blurred down the hall in the opposite direction. Behind her, someone opened fire. She zigged and zagged, making herself a hard target. She was almost around the corner when a white line of fire pierced through her side.

She rounded the corner and crashed into the opposite wall. She bounced off it and took off running again. She'd been shot; no way could she forget that feeling. She knew that the bullet had passed clean through, but that was all she knew. She didn't have time to stop and take stock of her injury. If it was serious, there was nothing she could do about it anyway, so she figured she might as well haul ass.

* * *

Back at the previous intersection, White pushed his way into the group of his brethren, before they could take off down the hall. "Who fired that shot?" he yelled, pushing men out of his way.

"Sir," one of his men began, "I thought if we slowed her down…"

White didn't give any warning. He pulled his gun and shot the man in the chest. The other soldiers recoiled from the display of violence.

"Don't think," White said. "Find her." When his other men didn't move, White snapped, "Well, what are you waiting for? Get moving!"

* * *

Between the reopened wounds on her arm and the bullet hole in her side, Max was losing blood. It wasn't a lot, but more than she could afford to lose. She was already severely dehydrated and anemic. She had run into another group of Familiars, this time a couple of scientist-types. She'd made fairly quick work of them, but it had cost her. She barely had anything in the tank left.

Now she was on the run again. Running and running, like a rat in a maze. _Cat_ in a maze. The thought made her giggle, and she quickly stifled it. Ohhh, blood loss.

The place really _was_ a maze, though, with lots of locked doors and blocked off areas. Every time she thought she'd found a way out, she'd run into another dead end, or, worse yet, another group of Familiars, and she'd have to decide to fight or run. Sometimes she fought, sometimes she ran.

After a while, she forgot why she was running. She was on autopilot. She didn't see the stairwell that led to the upper level and potential freedom. She didn't see the door to Gaines' personal lab, where a glowing stasis chamber sat on a side counter, its contents still undisturbed. She didn't see the faces of the people she fought. The world was a blur, and she was just another blur in it.

She kept running.

* * *

She came around a corner blindly and ran right into a massive chest.

She reacted without thought, slipping under the arm of her attacker while grabbing onto his wrist. She spun around, forcing him to flip to the ground so his arm wouldn't break.

A hand fell on her shoulder, and she kicked out behind her. Her bare foot landed in the second attacker's stomach.

"Max!"

She didn't think it was strange that he would use her real name instead of 452, or that his voice would sound so familiar. She wasn't thinking at all anymore. She was reacting on pure instinct.

She spun and kicked out, throwing all of her transgenic strength into a move that she hoped would take the guy's head clean off.

* * *

Logan and Asha dropped them off two miles from the site, parking on an old logging road. Alec had jacked a Land Rover for the mission, since Logan was still hanging on to his piece of shit Aztek, and no way were they taking _that_. It may have seemed far from their target, but it was an easy distance for a transgenic. Alec didn't want anyone to see them coming.

Logan watched the two transgenics as they stood at the back of the vehicle, checking their weapons and loading up on extra ammo. Joshua had two sawed-off shotguns in a custom holster on his back, a large handgun strapped to his side, and a sniper rifle for long distance shooting. Alec didn't appear to have any weapons, but Logan knew for a fact that he had at least four, though it was probably more than that.

"I still think you should let us come with you," he said, shoving hands that felt useless into his pockets. They'd hashed this out three times already since they'd gotten in the Rover, but he had to try again. He couldn't help but feel like he was abandoning them… especially after what had happened before, at Advanced Biomedics. What if it was another trap?

"We can help, Alec," Asha said, coming to stand beside Logan. "We _want_ to help."

Alec shook his head, his eyes on the weapon he was checking. Over the past ten minutes, his face has changed. It was as if all expression had slowly leached out of it, and they were left looking a copy, imperfect and incomplete.

Alec had turned cold. His eyes were the eyes of a man who understood and had accepted that he would have blood on his hands before the day was done.

"You'll just slow us down," Alec said as he slid the gun into the holster in his boot. There was no harshness in the words; they were simple fact.

Logan frowned. "So we're supposed to sit here while you guys go risk your lives."

Alec turned to Logan. He didn't have time for this, but he wouldn't be in the position to mount a rescue mission in the first place if it wasn't for the cyberjournalist. "Look," he said, softening his tone a bit, "we need a secure exit. We won't do Max any good if we get her out and then have no way to get back to Seattle."

Logan went to open his mouth to protest, but Asha put a hand on his arm to still him. "We'll wait here and cover your retreat."

Alec nodded his thanks. He shared a look with Joshua, and the pair of them turned in unison toward the woods.

"You'll call if you need backup?" Logan asked.

He never got an answer. Alec and Joshua disappeared into the trees, so silent it was as if the woods had swallowed them up.

"You think they'll be okay?" Asha asked him, rubbing her arms against the pre-dawn cold.

Logan stared off into the dark woods. "I hope so."

* * *

Alec and Joshua crouched at the edge of the woods, surveying the building. If they'd had any remaining doubt that they were at the right place, it disappeared quickly. For a supposedly abandoned building, it had a hell of a lot of security—armed guards, dogs, key carded entrances with palm print bioscanners and CCTV.

"We're not getting in the front door," Alec muttered quietly.

"Tunnels?" Joshua asked. They had gone over the schematics Logan had provided for the building on the ride over. Fortunately, the old water treatment plant had tons of pipes and tunnels leading in and out of the building. All they had to do was find the right one.

Alec nodded. "Let's move."

* * *

Alec gasped as he burst from the water, sucking in as much air as he could into his aching lungs. He reached out and grabbed the side of the pipe and hung there, panting. Then a large hand came into view as Joshua offered him an arm up. He grabbed it and let his big friend pull him to safety.

Once he was out of the water, Alec collapsed bonelessly to the ground, unable to catch his breath.

"What's wrong?" Joshua asked, squatting down beside him with a look of concern on his face. "Alec okay?"

Alec gave him a thumbs up. "I'm good," he panted.

Instead of being reassured, Joshua frowned at him and shook his head. "Out of breath. An X5 shouldn't _be_ out of breath." The transhuman hadn't had any trouble holding his breath while they swam up the pipe, and he knew that on average, the X series could hold their breath a lot longer than he could.

Alec grimaced. "I know. Got in trouble a lot at Manticore for that."

Joshua raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Thought Alec was good at everything."

Alec let out a sharp laugh, then held out his hand. Joshua pulled him to his feet. "There were quite a few things I wasn't good at," he said, pausing to catch his breath again, "but I was smart enough not to let them know it. This was the one thing I couldn't fake. I didn't have a problem any other time, just… there's something about the water…" For a moment, there was a faraway look in his eyes as he remembered the ways they had punished him for this shortcoming. Then he shook it off. This was no time for trips down bad memory lane. "I'm fine."

They were in a holding tank of some kind. If the place had been functional, Alec figured he probably would have drowned, because it would have been filled with water, and there was no way he could have held his breath any longer. Now, it was empty. All they had to do was find the way out.

Off to one side, there was a junction to another pipe that led up. This one, however, was covered by a heavy grate, secured with thick, rusted bolts.

"Shit," he said. "We'll have to blow it." He really didn't want to do it, in case it alerted the Familiars to their presence, but what other choice was there.

Then Joshua stepped forward, grabbed the grate by its cover, and pulled, ripping it right out of its housing with a screech of metal.

"…or you could just tear it right off of there," Alec said, impressed. He patted Joshua on shoulder. "I'm so glad you came along, man."

* * *

They came out into a subbasement. They gave it a quick search, but it was mostly pipes, boilers, and other large equipment, most of it silent and dust covered from disuse. After a quick search, they moved up a level, which appeared to be another basement level from the lack of windows. This level wasn't so quiet. They'd avoided any Familiars so far, but their luck would run out eventually. The place was crawling with them. They were moving quietly down a deserted hall, checking doors as they went, when an alarm sounded, blaring through speakers in the ceiling.

Alec looked at Josh, pulling out his 9mm. "That can't be for us." They'd been too careful.

They stared at each other for a second. "Max," they said simultaneously. They took off running, and to hell with stealth. They didn't care who saw them now. If Max had managed to break out of wherever they'd been holding her, she was going to need some help.

* * *

They ran right into a group of Familiars. It was too close quarters to use their guns, so they went hand to hand. Fortunately, this group was not like the elite they had fought back at Jam Pony—they were a bunch of White Coats, much like the ones he had seen back at Manticore. Alec had thought that Familiars were just a bunch of meatnecks, but apparently they did have some brains behind the operation. They were a lot stronger, of course, than the folks back at Manticore, but in the end, they were all scientific types.

Between the two of them, they were able to knock them out and stuff them in a closet. Josh broke off the handle of the door from the inside, then they shut and locked them in. It would take them a while to get out of that. He could have shot them—it probably would have been smarter if he would have shot them (it was never good to leave an enemy at your back)—but he couldn't do it. He knew how Max felt about that sort of thing.

They were about to round the corner and head down the next hall. Joshua was now on point while Alec covered their backs. At each corner, they switched positions to stay alert. Joshua was just about to peek out to check the next hall when someone barreled right into his chest.

Joshua staggered back a step from the force of the blow, which said something about how fast that person had been moving. Alec raised his weapon as he stepped to the other side of the hall so he could get a clear shot. His eyes widened in shock as the person came into view.

It was Max. Wild and ragged and barely recognizable, but still, _Max_.

Before either of them could say anything, Max had slipped under Josh's arm and flipped him to the floor. The dog man landed with a loud thud.

Alec reached out for her. He opened his mouth to call her name, but before he could get the word out, she kicked out, landing a blow to his stomach. He doubled over, backing away. When he managed to catch his breath, he yelled her name. "Max!"

She didn't look at him; it was like she was looking right through him.

She spun and kicked out, her leg blurring through the air. Alec barely managed to duck in time; he heard the air whistle over his head as her leg passed his skull by mere inches. If she had landed that blow, there was a good chance she would have knocked him out cold.

She didn't stop, coming at him with fists and hair flying—roundhouse punches, violent and almost blind in their aim. He backed away from each punch until he couldn't back away anymore; she had him up against the wall. He had no choice but to block and try not to hurt her. He called out her name, but she wasn't hearing him, wasn't seeing him. Not _him_. He couldn't get her to stop long enough to get through to her.

He saw Joshua get up out of the corner of his eye. "Stay back!" he yelled. He was afraid she might bolt, and he doubted that either of them could catch up to her if she did. Max was faster than either of them.

The problem was, he didn't think she would stop. She'd keep attacking until one of them was either unconscious or dead.

Max threw another punch, and this time, he didn't worry about hurting her. He grabbed her arm, holding on so tight that he knew there would probably be a bruise. But he knew that if she didn't stop her, she'd probably end up hurting herself a lot worse. She threw a punch with her other arm, and he grabbed that one too and yanked her to him.

"Max, stop! _Stop!_" he cried out. She shook her head violently, her eyes unfocused as she struggled to break free. He was going to lose his grip on her if he didn't get through to her soon.

He hesitated, finding it hard to exert his strength against her. This wasn't like sparring. When they were sparring, they both held back, but Max wasn't holding back this time. And neither could he. He crushed her to him, wrapping one arm around her while he fisted his hand in her hair at the nape of her neck with the other, pulling slowly until he had forced her head back so he could see her face.

"Max, Look at me! Look at me!" he yelled, forcing himself to not let go even though the frightened mewling noise she made stabbed him right in the heart. When her struggles began to fade, he let go of her hair, stroking it instead. His voice softened. "Come on, baby. _Look_ at me."

Max blinked at him, and her eyes slowly came into focus. "Alec?" she said, her voice so strained that it was barely above a whisper. "You came?"

As he looked down at her—pale, battered, and bloody but so full of life—tears came to his eyes. She was alive. Max was alive, and he'd finally found her.

He put a hand gently against her cheek. "I told you I'd never leave you," he whispered back, his voice choked with emotion.

Max grabbed his jacket tightly in both fists, as if he would get away if she let go. She let out a soft whimper of relief before her eyes rolled up into her head and she collapsed in his arms.

* * *

Alec caught Max and lowered her to the floor, feeling his heart rate ratchet up another level. He placed his fingers along her throat, relieved when he felt a pulse but also worried by how weak it was.

Joshua didn't need to be asked, he immediately took up a covering position at the junction of the halls so he could keep an eye on both at once. Alec began to do a quick check of Max's wounds. His jaw clenched hard as he saw what had been done to her; there was no other word for it but torture. He had to remind himself that he needed to keep his anger in check. As much as he wanted to kill Ames White, now was no time for revenge. He had to get Max out of here.

The gunshot was his main concern. The rest could wait until they got back to TC. He reached in one of the deep pockets of his pants and pulled out a field dressing, pressing it firmly against the wound. He secured the bandage, then pulled off his own jacket. Max's skin was cold to the point that it scared him; he was afraid she was going into shock. He struggled with her unconscious body, but after a minute, he managed to get it around her.

He picked her up. For a few seconds, he just held her, needing to feel her in his arms. Then he called out quietly, "Joshua." Alec motioned for the transhuman to take Max. He didn't want to let her go, but he knew that he had to be practical. He needed his hands free. Joshua may have been a good shot, but Alec had experience in live combat and it made a difference.

Joshua carried Max down the hall, following Alec as he cleared a path. They ran into several Familiars, but this time Alec didn't hesitate. He took each one down with a single shot to the head. He wouldn't risk Max further by delaying their escape, no matter how she felt about killing. After what they had done to her… he figured those Familiars got off easy.

After he'd capped the first, he turned toward Joshua, expecting to see disapproval in his eyes. There was none. Joshua had seen what had been done to Max.

Alec moved faster. The entire base had to know their location by now. They needed an exit, fast. They couldn't get out the way they'd come in, that was for sure… not with Max unconscious. He paused for a second, consulting the memory of the schematics he had memorized. They were close to an outer wall, the one that backed up against the mountain. Perfect. "This way," he called out quietly, slipping into a room on his right.

The room was large and empty. There were no windows, but he'd already known that. There were no windows on this side of the building, just a few emergency exits, none of which they would be able to reach without a major firefight. That was okay. He'd make his own door.

It only took him a half a minute to shape and arm the charges. He hadn't used them in quite some time, but he figured it was like the transgenic version of riding a bike—once you learned, you never forgot. He backed away to a safe distance and said, "Fire in the hole," more out of habit than anything else, before he flipped the switch.

After the dust had cleared, a man-sized hole appeared in the wall.

Alec moved over to Joshua and unstrapped the rifle from the transhuman's back. "There shouldn't be much presence on this side of the building, but I'll go first and clear a path if necessary. Once we're clear, I want you to shag ass for the Rover. I'll cover our retreat. Copy?"

Joshua nodded, pulling Max tighter to him. He would make sure she got out of this place. "Copy."

They moved fast. They were almost to the edge of the woods before the first bullets started zipping past them. Alec skidded to a stop and dropped to one knee. "Keep going!" he yelled to Joshua as he took aim. He took three quick shots, dropping a Familiar with each, before he turned and ran.

Once he'd reached the woods, he kept running until he had reached a small ridge that had enough rocks and trees to provide decent cover. He dropped flat to the ground, positioning the rifle so only the tip of the barrel stuck out. Then he waited.

After a minute or two, more Familiars began to pour out of the building to give chase. Alec felt a sense of déjà vu as he lined the lead man up in his sight. How many times had he done this before? Too many. He was 12 the first time he'd done it in a live fire situation, and his target had been some well-dressed businesswoman that Manticore had wanted wacked for some reason or another. Was it worse this time because he wasn't under orders?

It wasn't. Like it or not, they were at war. The moment Ames White had taken Max, the moment he'd killed transgenics in cold blood, he had declared war. The people coming after them would kill him and Joshua without hesitation, and they would take Max back into that hell hole. He couldn't let that happen.

He opened fire, taking out target after target, never once missing and never once hesitating. He did what Manticore had trained him to do, and he was damn good at it.

His breath caught in his throat.

Ames White had stepped into his sight of his rifle.

Alec's grip on the weapon tightened as his muscles tensed. He wanted to wrap his hands around Ames' throat and watch the light die from his eyes. He wanted White to know that it was him, _494_, that killed him.

_Screw it. Dead is dead_.

He finger was tightening on the trigger just as a bullet pinged off the rock mere inches from his head. Another bullet hit, and then another. They'd made his location.

"Dammit," he cursed, ducking as the bullets continued to pepper the rock. He'd missed his chance.

He popped up one last time, but Ames had taken cover somewhere. He immediately shifted his aim, targeting a large military-style jeep parked near the back of the building. He sank a bullet into the gas tank, then another. It didn't blow up like it did in the movies, and he hadn't expected it to. What it did do was begin to leak gas onto the ground in a steady stream, which was exactly what he had wanted it to do. He took one more shot, this time aiming for the hard metal of the brake calipers, which he could see between the tire's rims. He fired three quick rounds in succession, sending a rain of sparks down onto the gas. It ignited, and the flame crawled up the stream of gas and into the tank.

The vehicle exploded, spraying shrapnel everywhere.

Time to go. Alec shouldered the rifle, then turned around and crawled deeper into the woods. As soon as he reached denser cover, he got up and ran. It wouldn't take him long to catch up to Joshua.

* * *

Logan was pacing back and forth behind the Land Rover, nervously scanning the trees. Asha leaned against the vehicle, alternately watching the woods around them and watching Logan. He was wound tight, and she knew it was because of Max. She tried not to be jealous, but it was hard not to feel like she had been Logan's second choice.

"You still love her, don't you?" she asked, then immediately wished that she hadn't. She wasn't some insecure young girl; she was a strong woman who could stand on her own. But even strong women wanted to be number one with the man in their life.

Logan stopped pacing and turned to her, looking surprised. "What?" he asked, not sure if he had heard her right.

Asha shook her head. "Forget about it," she said, and walked toward the other side of the road and stared into the trees. "It's not important."

"Asha…" Logan began, but she cut him off.

"I said forget about it."

Logan sighed. He had been wondering when this issue would come up, and it had taken a lot longer than he had thought. Asha was a confident woman; it was one of the things that he loved about her.

"I do love Max," he said quietly, taking a cautious step toward her. He knew his words would hurt, but he had to say them. He had to get this out in the open. "I think part of me will always love her. We had something special for a while, Asha. I can't pretend it didn't happen."

Asha nodded, keeping her suddenly stinging eyes on the trees. She didn't want to speak, or to look at him, because if she did, she was afraid she'd start crying and make a fool out of herself. She couldn't help but flinch when Logan reached out to touch her hand.

"But I'm not _in_ love with her anymore," Logan added, pulling Asha closer to him. "What Max and I had… it's the past. And since we're being honest, I guess I should be honest with myself and admit what we did have was nothing but heartbreak and heartache. All we did was make each other miserable. With you… I'm happy."

Logan reached up to touch her face, turning her head to kiss her, when they both saw movement in the brush off to the left. They both spun, aiming their weapons at the trees.

Alec stepped out of the woods, with Joshua was right behind him. There, gently cradled in Alec's arms, was Max.

"You did it," Logan said, lowering his weapon. He hadn't realized it at the time, but when Alec and Joshua had disappeared into the woods, he had never expected to see them again. "You saved her."

Alec walked toward the Rover, trying not to hold Max too tightly when all he wanted to do was hang on for dear life. As soon as he'd caught up with Joshua in the woods, he'd insisted on carrying her. He needed the weight of her in his arms to assure him that he wasn't dreaming, that he really had saved her. Well, sort of.

Alec shook his head, and his lips quirked a little. "Not really," he replied to Logan. "Max did most of it herself."

Joshua opened the door, and Alec climbed in the backseat, careful not to jostle Max too much. It worried him that she hadn't regained consciousness since she'd passed out, but he could tell from the dark circles under her eyes that she was exhausted. He was sure he had his own set of dark circles to match. When they got back, he was going to do whatever it took to see they both got to sleep for a week.

Joshua climbed in on the other side, having dumped his guns in back and grabbed the med kit so they could administer fluids and a painkiller. The two transgenics basically ignored the ordinaries, focusing solely on Max and trusting that Logan and Asha would handle the getting back to Seattle part of the rescue.

Asha shot a glance at Logan, and she could see that he was a bit stunned. He had said that he was over Max, and she believed that _he_ believed it, but she was beginning to think that maybe he was fooling himself. Maybe he would never get over her.

"I'll drive," she said softly, giving Logan a nudge.

In the backseat, Alec started and IV drip of fluids for Max and patched up what wounds he could while they followed the logging road out of the woods. It wasn't long until they were back on the highway. Alec kept glancing out the rear window, but no one was following them.

It had almost been too easy.

Sitting in the front passenger seat, Logan's curiosity got the best of him. He turned and glanced toward the backseat. Joshua eyes were locked on the windows, watching for anything that might mean trouble. Alec was cradling Max's body, eyes half shut and dozing.

Logan looked at Max, his heart aching at the obvious damage that had been done to her. She slept on, oblivious to everything around her. She looked peaceful, and he couldn't help but notice how even in sleep she clung to him… to Alec. Her soul mate.

Logan turned away, feeling like he had somehow invaded their privacy. He turned and looked at Asha. Both hands were gripping the wheel, and her eyes were firmly locked on the road ahead. A strand of hair hung down on her cheek, and he wanted to reach out and push it back behind her ear, but he was afraid she would pull away from him. They'd been together for a while, but they still weren't 100% comfortable with each other.

Logan thought of Max and Alec in the back seat, so in tune with each other that even their breathing seemed synchronized. So in love that Alec had known Max was alive even when everyone else had said that she was dead.

He wondered if he and Asha would ever have something like that.

* * *

Ten miles away, in a room deep inside the Familiar stronghold, a small cylindrical chamber sat on a counter, the only light in the room provided by its soft glow. Inside it, the beginnings of transgenic life floated.

Abandoned.

* * *

A/N: I imagine you are not sure whether to cheer (Yay! Max is saved!) or scream (NO! The baby!). Feel free to do both.


	9. Ch 8: Bittersweet

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: This chapter came to be massively, bleeding-eyeballs-type long, so I decided to break it up. (I was hitting the 10K mark on word count, and it _still_ wasn't done.) It makes this chapter more transitional than anything else, but it was all for the sake of your eyeballs, my friends. Good news is, Chapter 9 is fairly close to being finished already.

Warning: My characters swear a lot.

* * *

Chapter 8: Bittersweet

Dalton sat slumped in a chair, scowling at a random spot on the floor. He figured he was less likely to get a smack upside the head if he chose to aim his scowls at a neutral target, so he kept his eyes down. It was a good plan, since his head already felt like it was about to fall off anyway. He still had a headache from the drug Alec had hit him with, but he was trying not to think about that too much, because thinking about it just made him angrier, which made his heart rate increase, which made his head pound even more. It was a vicious circle.

He'd come out of it rather abruptly when Shane, the last sentry he had helped to take out, gave his face a couple of slaps to bring him around. Still half drugged, Shane had hauled him none-too-gently to Medical. Deets, the other sentry, had already been there, and he'd hadn't been happy. After breaking up a very loud argument/shoving match, Vash has decided that Dalton had deserved to suffer and had the two sentries escort him—without the benefit of painkillers—into the main building, where they turned him over to the Command staff. Since then, he'd been sitting in the conference room, surrounded by Mole, Dix, Wil, and Zev, each of them taking turns grilling him about Alec.

He should have told them everything, and to hell with brotherhood. The bastard had left him… _drugged_ him. It was clear that Alec didn't trust him, and Dalton figured he'd been given plenty of reason to sell his _brother_ out.

But he couldn't. He was hurt and angry and betrayed and, most of all, scared, but he kept his mouth shut. As mad and as scared as he was, he couldn't turn against Alec. Not after everything that had happened. Not after everyone else had already turned against him. Even if it meant that the closest thing he had to family was out there alone because he was too stubborn to put a well-trained, perfectly capable teenager in the line of fire.

The idiot was probably out there getting himself killed. He might be dead already.

Dalton sniffed, eyes blinking rapidly. He continued to stare at the floor and tried not to think about it.

* * *

Wil paced rapidly in front of the young X6. He was seriously pissed off. He'd lost Terminal City's SIC (or former SIC, if you took Alec's resignation seriously). Not only had the man managed to get out of TC after his best efforts to lock it down, he'd taken out several of his sentries in the process without so much as breaking a sweat. On top of that, Wil's arm—the one that Alec had broken a couple of days ago—was itching like crazy underneath the cast that ran from elbow to knuckles, and it was driving him insane. Then, of course, there was the fact that he had completely blown it with Zev the other night. She'd made a pass at him, and he'd been too nervous to take her up on it.

His life sucked—professionally, personally… pretty much any way you looked at it.

His arm would finish healing in a few more days, and there was nothing he could do about the Zev situation right at the moment, but he sure as hell could do something about the Alec situation. They'd already lost one leader, and he'd be damned if they'd lose another on his watch.

Mole had taken his turn going through another round of questions, but so far they had gotten nowhere. The kid hadn't told them anything that they hadn't already known. It was all a big waste of time, and the longer they stood around doing nothing, the greater the chances were that they'd never see Alec again.

Wil slammed his good hand against conference table. "Tell us where he was going, you little shit, or, I swear, I will beat it out of you!"

Dalton stared up at Wil, startled and a little worried by his un-Wil-like outburst. Everyone was on edge; that much was painfully obvious. He was beginning to think that the four of them weren't going to let him out of the room unless he gave them something.

As he thought about it, it made him wonder if he should he really bother keeping his mouth shut. Everyone knew that Alec was gone. Everyone knew that he'd gone on what they thought was mad crusade to rescue someone that couldn't be rescued. What harm would it do to tell them where? He was positive what the results would be if they followed up on it, and it would maybe shorten the ass-chewing.

"The old rail yards down in Tacoma. That's what he told me," Dalton admitted.

"Are you telling the truth or just feeding us a bunch of bullshit so we'll get off your case?" Wil asked heatedly.

"That's what Alec told me," Dalton repeated honestly. Then he shrugged. "But it probably _is_ bullshit, considering he was planning to ditch me."

"Great. So you really have no idea where he is?"

Dalton's only response was a shrug. Dix shook his head at his attitude; the boy just didn't get it. "You're in a lot of trouble, kid. You know that, don't you?"

Dalton's upper lip curled and he replied with a surly, "What else is new?"

"I've about had enough…" Wil snapped, advancing angrily on the X6.

"Easy, Wil," Zev said, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back. She was kind of surprised. Wil was so even tempered; she'd never seen him like this. She wasn't ashamed to admit that it was kind of turning her on.

Mole stepped in front of Wil to break his line of sight with Dalton. He didn't need anyone else going off the deep end, and definitely not Wil. If even the level-headed Wil started falling apart, then Terminal City was official screwed.

"You're confined to quarters until further notice," Mole told Dalton. He held up a hand to silence Wil's coming protest, then added, "Don't think this means we're letting you off easy. We'll figure out what to do with you later."

"Fine by me." Dalton said. He shoved himself out of the chair and stalked off with the requisite amount of attitude for a pissed-off teenager.

He wasn't out the door five seconds when the power went out.

Terminal City had tapped into city power not long after the siege. It gave them a steady source of energy, but it also made them dependent on the city. If a grid went down, they went down. Considering the unusual winter storms they'd been having, they were probably lucky that it hadn't happened sooner.

"What the hell else can go wrong?" Mole growled.

Dix headed for the door. "I'll grab Luke, see about getting the generators fired up 'til we're back online."

Mole stood there for a moment, shoulders sagging. "The universe hates me," he said tiredly. If one more thing went wrong, he was going to barricade himself in the Armory and never come out. Until then, he still had to be a leader. He walked out the door, leaving Wil and Zev alone in the room.

Zev turned to look at him, and Wil was pretty sure the temperature went up about ten degrees.

"So…" she said, taking a not-so-casual step toward him as she openly eyed him. "Alone in the dark."

"Yeah." Wil swallowed. His mouth was suddenly bone dry; he'd gone from pissed off to nervous as hell in two seconds flat.

Zev continued to move toward him, and he had to force himself to stand his ground. She had him wound so tight, he felt like his muscles would start snapping left and right. He wanted her so badly at that moment, but it the timing was all wrong. Besides, he was thinking beyond just the here and now with Zev, and he didn't want to screw it up. Premature screwing was definitely one way to screw things up with a girl. The problem was, he was pretty sure she was about to kiss him, and he wasn't exactly sure what he should do about it. Kissing could lead to so many other things…

He was over-thinking it. A kiss was just a kiss, right? Their lips were almost about to touch when Mole yelled out, "Zev! Wil! Quit screwing around and get your asses on the Border!"

Zev rolled her eyes and broke away. "We'd better go," she said, and headed for the door.

Wil held on to the edge of the table, trying to a grip on himself. He'd never had anyone affect him like Zev did. When she turned back, that brilliant red hair framing her perfect face, he almost found himself confessing his undying love. Fortunately, she saved him from embarrassing himself and asked, "You coming?"

That set off a series of fantasies in his head involving Zev and the big table behind him. "I wish," he muttered under his breath.

"Huh?" Zev said, looking at him quizzically.

Wil shook his head. "Never mind," he said, and followed her out the door.

* * *

Even though they were in a hurry, they drove two miles under the speed limit the entire way back to Seattle. Max was stable enough, and they couldn't afford to attract the attention of any gung ho Staties. Once they reached the outskirts of Seattle, they wound a circuitous route through the various checkpoints, hitting the ones where they knew the sector cops could be easily bribed to look the other way.

They were about to turn onto the street that led to the Garage when Asha slowed.

"What's going on?" Alec asked, leaning forward as much as Max's limp body would let him.

"Sector cops. Looks like they're busy rousting transients. It could be a while."

"Should we hit another entrance?" Logan asked.

"No," Joshua said. "Must get Little Fella back now. Shortest route is through the Garage."

"Then we need a diversion," Alec added. He would've offered to be that distraction, but no way was he letting go of Max. Not until they were safe back in Terminal City and he personally turned her over to Vash.

It was Asha who spoke up. "You guys pile out," she said. "I'll take care of it."

"Asha…" Logan said, his voice concerned. He'd found that the one thing that was really different about dating an ordinary woman was that he worried about her a whole lot more. Especially when that woman was the leader of S1W.

"Relax, Logan," she said, smiling broadly at him. "I've been dodging the cops for years. These guys won't be any trouble."

Alec solved the argument by stepping out of the Rover, turning away from the wind so he would shield Max from most of it. "Let's go," he said.

Joshua and Logan piled out. The transhuman quickly removed all of their weapons from the back in case Asha did manage to get caught; a speeding ticket was a lot easier to deal with then an arrest for illegal arms possession. Once they were clear, she started down the street, accelerating until she was well over the safe limits. She blasted past the cops, purposely sideswiping the side of one of the cruisers before tearing around the corner. The cops scrambled for their vehicles and took off after her.

"That's my girl," Logan said, smiling.

They moved quickly down the street and slipped into the garage. Joshua moved over to the small communications station against one wall, where they had a secure line into TC. They couldn't risk the radios. The Familiars had already breached their tunnels once, and there was no telling if White had left a small group to keep an eye on things. The transhuman picked up the line and punched a few buttons. He hit them again with no result.

"Lines are down," he said. They couldn't call for help.

"One of the power grids must be out," Logan said. "I noticed it as we were coming in. Parts of the city looked dark. Probably the storm."

"Great. Just perfect," Alec said sarcastically, shifting Max in his arms so he'd have a better grip on her. "I guess we do this the hard way."

They climbed down the ladder into the tunnel, Alec moving awkwardly as he tried to carry Max without jostling her too much. Once they reached the tunnel floor, they headed toward home. Joshua took point, making sure the tunnels ahead were clear. Not only did they have to watch for Familiars, but there were also sector cops and soldiers and the random vagrant trying to escape the cold to worry about. They had to take it slow, and it about drove Alec crazy. They were so close, but he felt like they'd never get there.

Their precautions paid off when they were a couple of blocks from the Terminal City border. Joshua held up a hand to stop them, tilting his head to listen.

"What is it?" Alec whispered, coming up behind him. Logan drew his gun, scanning the tunnel for whatever had spooked Joshua.

"Listen," said Joshua, then fell silent so they could hear. After a few seconds, he asked, "Hear it?"

"Hear what?" Logan whispered, mildly frustrated. It was tough hanging around people that were better than you at damn near everything.

"Soldiers," Alec whispered back.

"Are they on to us?"

Alec shook his head. "I don't think so. Sounds like they're just patrolling. Probably SOP in situations like this, with the power outage… you know, in case the freaks decide to bust out and take over Seattle."

"So how do we handle this?"

"Joshua lead them away, let them chase for a while, same as Asha," the transhuman said quietly, handing Logan his guns. He didn't want to give the soldiers a reason to shoot him.

"If they catch you..." Alec said in warning. Things were already a mess. They didn't need the added trouble of explaining things to the military.

Joshua patted him on the shoulder. "Have faith. Joshua will be all right. You take care of Little Fella."

Alec gave a sharp nod of acknowledgement. "Watch your ass."

* * *

Logan took over point, swinging his flashlight back and forth over the tunnel. There was a possibility it could give away their position, but once they'd hit the area where the power was out, even Alec couldn't see in the pitch black of the tunnel.

He rounded the last corner and could see a yellow-orange glow at the other end of the tunnel. Someone had set up emergency lanterns at the exit. They'd made it, without incident. The home stretch was completely clear. Logan turned back and called out softly, "I'll run ahead and get help." Without waiting for Alec to respond, he ran toward the exit.

A half a minute later, he was skidding to halt as an icy female voice called out, "Stop right there."

* * *

Zev felt like her nerves were about ready to snap. Max was dead, Alec was gone, and now the damn power was out. Everyone on the Border was amped up since the grid went down. Without power, they had no surveillance coverage. Even though a handful of generators were providing the main buildings with emergency power, they didn't have enough juice to run all of the surveillance systems and motion sensors. Without coverage, anybody and his brother could walk almost all the way into TC unchallenged. Her people were the last line of defense until the power came back on. She'd had to steal all of Wil's people, plus two dozen from other various departments to cover the access points and patrol the fences.

All of this meant that when a man had come charging out of the darkness of the tunnel, she'd almost fired first and asked questions later. She'd caught herself at the last second and challenged him to stop.

"Don't shoot!" the man yelled out, holding up his hands in surrender. He had a gun in one of those hands.

"Trix, call for backup."

"On it," the X4 said, and backed toward the opening of the tunnel to get a clearer signal.

"It's Zev, right?" Logan said, panting from having run the length of the tunnel. He carefully put his gun on the ground, then straightened slowly. "Don't you recognize me? I'm Logan Cale. Eyes Only?"

The transgenic sneered. She'd thought he'd looked familiar. "Oh. _Logan Cale_. And that's supposed to convince me _not_ to shoot you?"

"Look, I've got Max and Alec with me…"

Zev flicked off the safety and took a step forward, aiming for the center of Logan's forehead. "Alec is off on a suicide mission somewhere, and Max is dead. Try again."

"Trust me, Max isn't dead. They're right behind me…" he said, gesturing over shoulder.

She didn't look. She wasn't stupid enough to take her eyes off her target. They hadn't seen Cale in months, and he suddenly shows up now, when everything had gone to shit? Right. "I don't know what your game is, Cale, but you got 'til three to turn around, or I start shootin'. One."

"Will you just listen to me? Max and Alec are…"

"Two." Her eyes narrowed, and she saw the panic in his eyes. She would shoot him if she had to, and he knew it.

"Wait! Wait! I swear, they're right behind me, you've got to believe me…"

"Three."

Zev actually started to squeeze the trigger, the whole time justifying what she was about to do in her head. This was the man who had almost gotten Alec killed. And he was here now, after they hadn't seen him for months? He had to be working with the Familiars. She was a hairsbreadth from firing when she heard a voice call out from the darkness behind Cale.

"Zev!"

She stopped and looked toward the sound of that familiar voice, and there he was, Alec, not dead, with Max in his arms, also not dead. She was so shocked that she almost fired anyway. Mouth hanging open, she clicked on the safety and lowered her weapon.

Alec walked right up to her, Max held tightly in his arms, barely sparing her a glance as he passed her. "He's with me," he said coldly.

"Holy shit," Zev breathed as she stared after them, still stunned.

Others came running—the backup Trix had requested—and all five of them screeched to a halt in amazement at the sight of Alec carrying a woman they'd thought was dead. Alec didn't look at anyone, ignoring the barrage of overlapping questions.

They hadn't believed him. He had no time for them now.

At the entrance to Medical, Alec paused and turned to Logan. "I need you to do something for me," he asked.

"Name it," Logan replied instantly. If there was anyone he owed a favor, it was Alec.

"I need you to find Original Cindy and bring her here."

Logan nodded, ready to do anything that might help Max. "Done."

Alec gave him a brief nod of thanks, then kicked open the doors to Medical.

* * *

Word of Max's return spread like wildfire. The streets were in virtual pandemonium, and it took Mole and his crew fifteen minutes to get everyone calmed down. They were all in emotional overload. Most of them had been just beginning to deal with the fallout from Max's death, and now they found out she was alive.

Mole, Dix, Wil, and Zev met in front of Medical, each of them having the same reservations about going inside.

"He's going to be pissed," Wil said, eyeing the door with misgiving.

Mole chewed on his cigar for a moment, then threw it down on the ground and tramped on it. "It's not like we can avoid him for the rest of our lives."

Zev grimaced. "I think I could give it a shot." She'd already experienced being on Max's bad side; she didn't even want to think about what it would mean to be on Alec's bad side.

Dix rolled his eyes at them. "I don't know about you, but there's no chicken in my DNA." With that comment, he pushed through the door into Medical.

Mole, Wil, and Zev all stared at each other, each wondering who would have the guts to go next. Mole straightened his shoulders. "Let's get this over with," he said, and followed Dix into the building.

Wil and Zev stood shoulder to shoulder, staring at the door. Wil leaned over and muttered, "I'm thinking of bailing. You?"

"Oh, yeah."

Fifteen seconds later, they were still standing in the same spot.

Zev let out an exasperated sigh. "Come on," she said, and pulled Wil with her through the doors.

* * *

Mole and the others stood in the open doorway, all staring at Max as if they'd never seen someone come back from the dead before. This was the second time she'd done it, but since none of them had been around for the first time, it was natural that they would be a little awed by her return.

Alec was standing next to the bed, gently brushing a hand over Max's hair as Vash began to examine her. Max was still out, but they could all see that she had been through Hell. While they'd all been busy having funerals and locking up her boyfriend, she'd been beaten and tortured to within an inch of her life.

Alec stiffened when he sensed their presence. Vash spared them a quick, warning glance before going back to her patient. From the look in her eyes, they could tell that Alec wasn't going to make this easy on them.

No one knew where to start. Saying, "Hey, sorry we thought you were completely crazy and locked you up for a couple of days," wasn't going to cut it.

Alec saved them the trouble. He turned to Vash and asked, "Call me if she wakes up," before turning on them. He didn't say anything, just brushed past them and out into the hall.

They all stared at each other for a second, then followed. When Alec was further down the hall, he stopped and turned. His eyes lit for a second on the cast on Wil's arm, and there was a flicker of remorse, but it was quickly shut down in favor of cold resentment.

"You wanna talk? Talk," he said, though from the tone of his voice, he wasn't promising he'd listen.

Alec was definitely not going to make this easy.

"You were right. About everything," Mole said gruffly, swallowing his pride. It didn't go down well. "We made a mistake."

Alec crossed his arms over his chest. As far as he was concerned, it was too little and way too late. "Thank you for stating the fucking obvious," he said, his voice completely devoid of emotion.

Mole wanted the X5 to yell at them, get pissed off, lash out… give any kind of response other than this icy detachment. It bothered him so much that he was ready to pick a fight just to get some sort of reaction. "All right, look…" Mole began, but Wil's level-headedness had returned, and he interrupted the transhuman before he said something he might regret.

"We figure now that you've busted Max out, the Familiars might want some payback. With that drug they've got… we can't afford to be caught with our pants down. We need to develop a plan in case they retaliate, and a contingency plan in case they plan to launch a chemical attack."

Alec nodded his agreement, and at first, they'd thought they'd made some progress. "You go ahead and do that," he said, then moved to push by them and head back down the hall.

"But we need more information—numbers, weapons, anything you saw while you were busting her out."

"Someone also needs to speak to the people," Dix added. "There's a lot of rumors flying out there. We put a lid on it for now, but it'll only hold them for so long. We need someone to set them straight about what happened. If you could…"

Alec held up a hand to stop him. "Uh uh. That's not my problem. I quit, remember?"

"You didn't mean that," Wil said, smiling slightly as if it had all been a joke. Wishful thinking, really.

"Didn't I?" Alec responded, raising an eyebrow.

"So, what? You're going to take your ball and go home?" Mole shot back angrily. "You don't get that luxury, pal. We're talking about the extermination of our entire race, here. It's everybody's problem."

Alec drew his head back and put a hand to his chest. "I'm sorry. I assumed that didn't include me. I mean, transgenics are supposed to have each other's backs. Max Law #3, right? Since you guys didn't have mine, I figured I must not count."

"Alec…" Zev pleaded, reaching out to touch his arm. This was getting out of control fast, and if word got out about any of it… there'd be pandemonium.

Alec jerked his arm away. "_Don't_ touch me," he said heatedly, his stony façade cracking a little. His control was starting to slip. The woman he loved had been tortured for days because he hadn't been there to save her. Because of _them_. They'd better hope that they weren't around when it fully hit him, because he wouldn't be responsible for what happened.

He turned his back on them and headed back down the hall. Max was waiting for him.

"Listen," Mole called out to his retreating back. "You hear them out there?" He fell silent, and they all could hear the murmuring of the crowd gathered around Medical. "They need you out there, Alec. They need you as their SIC. You know they do."

Alec didn't stop. He didn't even hesitate.

"You know," Mole added loudly, "the last thing Max would want you to do is leave Terminal City in my hands. How'd you think she'd feel if she knew you bailed on your own people?"

Alec came to a stop, but he didn't turn around. "That's low."

"Whatever it takes, man."

Alec turned and walked slowly back to them, his movements very controlled. _Mole's right_, he told himself. _It doesn't matter how pissed off you are at them._ _This is what Max would want of you_.

"One condition," Alec said, his gaze traveling over the four of them. "Max comes first. Once I know she's all right, I'll go out and talk to everyone. Until then, I don't leave this building. Any planning you want to do will be done from here."

"We can do that," Wil said quickly, sending the others a look that said they'd better agree with him.

"And Joshua's out in the tunnels somewhere. If he's not back in an hour, send someone looking."

"Shit. He's still in the tunnels?" Zev asked, surprised. In all the commotion, she'd forgotten she'd let him roam.

"He came with me to rescue Max," and they could all hear the slight emphasis on the _He_. "There was a patrol in the tunnels when we came back. He was leading them on a wild goose chase. Make sure he's okay."

"On it," Zev replied and headed out the door.

"Wait!" Wil called after her. "I'll join you." He took off after her.

"I think I'll go check on the generators. Keep me posted on Max's condition," Dix said, and quickly made himself scarce. He sensed that Mole and Alec were about to have it out, and he'd already dealt with enough uncomfortable situations for one night.

Alec turned to walk away, and Mole found himself overcome with anxiety, which was an unusual sensation for him. He couldn't leave things like this between them. Alec was his friend, and even though their friendship didn't work like most people thought friendship should, he'd kind of gotten used to it. Though he would hardly even admit it to himself, he missed the rough camaraderie he and the X5 had developed. He didn't know if Alec would ever be able to forgive him for what he'd done, but Mole knew he never would if didn't try to set things right.

"Alec," he called out before he could change his mind. "Wait up." It didn't surprise him when Alec didn't stop. He jogged down the hall after him and stopped right in front of him, causing Alec to stop as well. "Look, man, we've been through a lot of shit in the past couple of years, here, so I figure you could at least hear me out."

Alec glared at for a few seconds, then finally relaxed a bit. "Could you make this quick?" he said coldly. "I have to get back to Max."

Mole had to remind himself that _he_ was the one in the wrong. Damn Alec, he sure knew how to push people's buttons.

"You know we were only trying to protect you. We thought you were gonna run off and get yourself killed. What else were we supposed to do? I'm sorry we didn't believe you, okay? I…" Mole paused and took a deep breath and blew it out. Apologies weren't something he was used to making. "I'm sorry _I_ didn't believe you. I should have trusted you."

Mole held out his hand, hoping that Alec would take it. His was shocked when Alec actually did. Their SIC generally wasn't the type to hold a grudge, but what had happened had been more than a simple argument. If Mole had been in Alec's shoes, he knew that he wouldn't have been so quick to forgive.

And, apparently, neither was Alec.

The X5's right hand tightened painfully around Mole's for a second, and it was the only warning he got. Alec's left fist swung around and caught the transhuman across the jaw, knocking him right on his ass.

Alec's gaze was hard as he stared down at the transhuman. "Apology accepted," he said and walked away.

Mole stared after Alec, rubbing his sore jaw. He figured he got off easy.

* * *

Alec stood off to the side, nervously chewing on his thumbnail as he watched everything Vash did. When he'd come back into the room, she'd been finishing up her preliminary examination of Max. She told him that she was going to deal with the major issues, then go back and handle all of the minor injuries later, since there were so many.

"So," he said hesitantly, afraid that she might not give him the answers he wanted to hear, "what have you found so far?"

If it had been anyone else, she would've told him to mind his own business, doctor/patient confidentiality and all that. But this was Alec. He was her SIC. He was Max's lover. He'd saved Max from torture at the hands of the Familiars. He deserved to know.

Especially considering that she'd been the one to turn the key when they'd locked him up. She owed him.

"She's severely dehydrated and malnourished. She's also anemic, which isn't surprising considering the bullet wound and the cuts on her arm, but the severity of it _is_. I would assume that they were bleeding her to keep her in a weakened state. There are multiple cuts, bruises, abrasions, but I haven't gotten to all of them yet. There's just too damn many. She's got some broken fingers for sure, but I need to run some x-rays to see if anything else is broken."

"What about… the drug? Is she… I mean, will she…?"

Vash shook her head. "It was the first thing I checked. Her DNA's fine. There's no trace of it. They obviously wanted to torture her for information, so they couldn't risk infecting her with it."

Alec sagged with relief. He's been afraid that he'd gotten the woman he loved back just to watch her die. He walked over to Max and took her hand gently in his. It had been hours since they'd rescued her, but she still hadn't opened her eyes. "I don't get it. Why is she still out?" he asked.

Vash hesitated, and for a moment, Alec thought she was going to tell him she was in a coma or something equally horrible. Seeing his panic, Vash smiled weakly at him; Widget had been working with her on her bedside manner. "She'll come out of it soon. I'm sure of it. In the meantime, I need to finish patching her up, and I don't need you hovering over me while I do it."

Alec frowned, glancing worriedly at Max. He shuffled his feet, but didn't move.

"You know, you did quite a number on the people you knocked out with the drugs you stole," Vash said, changing the topic. "Shane and Deets shook it off pretty well, but Dalton had one hell of a hangover. You didn't quite get the dose right for his body weight."

She was trying to guilt him into running off and finding Dalton so he'd get out of her hair, but he was still hesitating. Vash put her hands on her hips; she was losing what little patience she had. "You know she won't want you to see her like this."

"All right," Alec said. "You win." Before he left the room, he walked over to Max and brushed his lips against hers. "I'll be back in a little while," he whispered. "I owe someone an apology." At the door, he spared her one last glance before he slipped quietly out of the room.

Vash waited a couple of minutes, making several notes on Max's chart. When she was sure that Alec was out of earshot, she put the chart down and turned to Max. "He's gone."

As she suspected, Max opened her eyes, already wide awake.

"So," Vash said, staring down at her. "You wanna tell me why you were faking it?"

* * *

Vash helped Max sit up, pretending she didn't hear her leader's soft whimpers of pain. She knew that Max wouldn't appreciate being fussed over, which was fine, because Vash wasn't really that good at fussing anyway. That was Widget's job.

"I need you to do something for me," Max said hoarsely, her throat still raw from the time she'd spent in captivity without food and water. "And I couldn't have him around for this."

"Okay," Vash drawled, puzzled. She had no idea what or even why Max would want to keep something from Alec. Several heartbeats passed in silence before Max finally explained.

"I need you to see if I was pregnant."

Vash jerked her head back as if she'd been slapped. The words didn't compute until Max slid down the waistband of her pants, showing a small scar, several inches across. So small an insignificant compared to Max's other wounds that the doctor had overlooked it. But it wasn't insignificant. Not at all. Vash looked up, and something passed between them, woman to woman.

"White could have been lying," Max added, her voice quiet and carefully regulated.

Calm. Cool. Cool as ice. Shut everything down. Stay in control. That's what she needed. Control.

The eyes that met Vash's were bleak. "I need to know for sure."

* * *

A/N: Not a lot going on here, I know, but this chapter does pose an important question: was Max really pregnant, or was it all some sick, evil scheme cooked up by White?


	10. Ch 9: Wrongish Rights, Rightish Wrongs

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: This chapter has been done for a little over a week now, but I've had to go back and do a lot of tweaking. I just wasn't happy with it. I was trying to find a realistic balance of character reaction to some very heavy circumstances. I hope I succeeded.

Warning: The usual stuff…

* * *

Chapter 9: Wrong-ish Rights, Right-ish Wrongs

Dalton lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Music blared through the earbuds of his mp3 player, muffling the irritating chatter of the others. He was in no mood to talk. Not even to Oscar, who he'd sent away with a couple of harsh words and no explanation.

With the power still out, it had gotten friggin' cold in the barracks; he could see his own breath steaming in the wan light coming from the small window. It was cloudy again. They'd probably have another snowstorm before the week was out.

He wondered how long they were going to make him stay in his room.

His door slammed open, crashing into the wall and making him jump. He jerked upright, pulling the earbuds from his ears. "Kazi? What the hell?"

"Oh my God, you haven't heard?" she said excitedly, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed.

"Heard what?" he asked cautiously, getting off of the bed. The last time Kazi had brought him news, it hadn't been good.

"Max! She's alive! The person we thought was Max was actually her clone. Alec snuck out of TC and rescued her! Our Max is over in Medical right now!"

Dalton sighed and sank back down onto his bed, slumping with relief. Living in a constant state of worry for the past couple of days had literally worn him out. "He did it. He actually did it."

"I know! Unreal, isn't it?" She was about to jump down on the bed beside him when she did a double take. "Wait. You knew?" Dalton looked up at her like a deer caught in the headlights, and she had her answer. "You knew she was still alive and you didn't tell me?"

"I wasn't sure at first," he said hesitantly, Kazi's tone warning him that trouble was brewing.

"So? You still could've told me!" she shot back, getting louder with each word.

Dalton stood up again. It was better to be on your feet and ready to fight when you had an argument with a transgenic girl. "What's the big deal?"

"The big deal, Dalton, is that you don't trust me!"

"I trust you," he said defensively and wondered how this conversation had gotten out of control.

Kazi crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, really. Did you tell Oscar?"

Okay, where had _that_ come from? "No, I didn't tell Oscar. What's he got to do with it?"

"Just seems that you're more interested in your little bromance than you are in me."

"Oh, come on. You can't be serious." He didn't get it. Oscar was a guy. Girls weren't supposed to be jealous of other guys, were they? Maybe if he'd swung both ways, sure, but he didn't, so he didn't get what her problem was.

He didn't have time for this. He had to go to Medical and see Max, and to Hell with house arrest.

She turned to walk away from him, and dammit, she _was_ serious. He tried to grab her arm to pull her back. He only wanted to talk to her, maybe smooth things out a bit before he took off, but she turned on him and took a swing, aiming for his head. He ducked and backed away, hands held up in surrender. It didn't help. Kazi was taking no prisoners. She picked up a mug off his dresser and hurled it at him. He dodged, and it shattered against the wall.

"Hey!" he protested. "Cut it out."

"Make me, you jerk!" Kazi yelled back and chucked the baseball that had been sitting next to the mug. He barely managed to avoid that one.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Kazi knew this was a bad idea. Trying to knock your boyfriend unconscious wasn't really high up there for ways of keeping said boyfriend. But at least this would make him deal with her instead of ignoring her like he'd been doing. She didn't know what else she could do, aside from breaking up with him, and she didn't want to do that. It wasn't until he'd started avoiding her that she'd realized her feelings for him went deeper than she'd thought. She was really afraid that if they didn't deal with this now, they'd keep drifting apart—a slow, drawn-out breakup without actually saying the words.

"Hey. You guys okay in here?" someone said as he came to the door, and she couldn't even make out who it was, she was so caught up in her mad.

"GET OUT!" she screamed and hurled another piece of Dalton's junk at the intruder's head. The guy ducked and quickly bailed, leaving Dalton to fend for himself.

Fortunately for Dalton, it was all the distraction he needed. When she turned back around, he had already closed the distance between them and grabbed her wrist before she could throw anything else at him.

"That's enough!" he yelled.

They were both riled up and breathing hard. Her chest was heaving and her eyes were full of fire and anger and damn if she didn't look hotter than hell.

She grabbed the front of his shirt, and he thought at first that she was going to headbutt him, but she didn't. She yanked him forward and kissed him.

Holy shit, what a kiss.

It was violently passionate and more intense than anything he'd ever experienced, even with her, and they'd had a lot of practice kissing. It seemed to last forever. He was really getting into it, and his body was responded accordingly. Which was exactly why he had to stop. No matter what she thought, he really did care about her, and he didn't want things to go farther than they were ready to go right now… not even to third base. Not until things weren't so screwed up.

He broke off the kiss, panting, his face still only inches from hers. "What do you want from me?" he breathed.

Kazi pulled back so she could look at him. He was mussed and rumpled and so damn cute, though she'd never call him cute to his face. She decided to let him off the hook, since she knew she wasn't entirely blameless in the whole situation.

"Well," she said, giving him a put-on stern look and hard tug on his hair, "you can stop avoiding me for starters."

Dalton smiled broadly. "Deal."

She could see that his thoughts were already wandering toward Max and Alec, and that he was conflicted. He'd just promised he'd spend time more time with her, but she knew that he wanted to run off to Medical. Of course, Dalton wouldn't say anything. He would probably stew over it until it drove her crazy and she bailed, after which he could go and see Max, instead of just saying he wanted to go see Max in the first place. Boys could be so stupid sometimes.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Go ahead," she said with teasing exasperation. "You know you want to."

Dalton planted a light kiss on her cheek, already heading for the door. "Thanks, Kazi. You're the best."

* * *

When Alec stepped out of the building, using the back door to avoid the crowd milling around out front, the cold hit him like a physical blow. He shivered and zipped up his coat a little higher.

His fingers brushed the small bump under his shirt, where the pair of rings still hung around his neck. They seemed lighter now, no longer weighing him down as a symbol of a future lost. One day, he and Max would wear those rings. As soon as she got better and everything settled down, he'd ask her. No worrying about what she would say or if it was the right time or the right moment. He'd _make_ the moment right.

He walked down the street, distracted by thoughts of the future instead of thinking about what he would say to Dalton. He was about to round the corner of the building when the very person he'd been looking for came around from the other side at a full run, almost slamming into him.

"Hey!" Alec said, grabbing Dalton before he could crash into him. He looked down at the X6 and saw a spark of fire in the boy's eyes that made him let go. Yep, Dalton was definitely pissed at him. Alec rocked back on his heels, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets to keep them warm. "I was just looking for you."

Dalton crossed his arms over his chest. "Really," he said, trying to sound like he didn't care. He was glad that Alec was alive, but that didn't change what had happened. Alec had betrayed his trust, and if the X5 thought he could brush it off with an apology and a smile, he had another thing coming.

Alec wasn't sure where to begin. He decided on a delaying tactic, steering away from the main reason why he'd been looking for Dalton in the first place.

"Yeah. Max is still out, so…" He trailed off, coming up with a blank. God, he was tired. He couldn't think.

"Is she okay?" Dalton asked, dropping the pretence.

Alec could've told Dalton that Max was fine, but he wouldn't lie to him again. It wouldn't have worked anyway, because Dalton would've never believed it. "They messed her up pretty bad," he said. "It probably looks worse than it is, but we won't know for sure until Vash finishes running the tests. I don't think she's in any immediate danger, though."

Dalton nodded and fell silent, not meeting Alec's eyes. The kid chewed on his lower lip, then looked back up at the X5. Alec could see the hurt and anger his young friend been trying to keep under control. He'd seen that own look on his face reflected back at him, after Mole and the others had locked him up. The resemblance was disturbing.

Alec thought about everything that had happened in the past couple of days. Was it fair, what the others had done to him? What he himself had done to Dalton? No. But was it necessary? He guessed that depended on your point of view. He'd left Dalton behind to protect him. Mole had locked him up for the same reason. You could call one wrong-ish right and the other right-ish wrong, but basically, they were two sides of the same coin. Realizing this didn't make him less angry at Mole, Dix… the entire population of Terminal City, save Dalton and Joshua. It probably made him a hypocrite, but he was okay with that for now. He had more important things to worry about.

Like what the hell he could say to make Dalton not hate him. Too bad his brain didn't want to cooperate.

"How could you do that to me?" Dalton accused before Alec could come up anything. "You lied to me. You _drugged_ me."

Alec shrugged. "I don't know what to say to you, kid. I'm not sorry for what happened, and I'm not going to lie to you and say that I am. I did what I did because I didn't want you to get hurt. I wish it hadn't gone down the way it did, but I didn't have time to argue with you, and I knew you wouldn't willingly stay behind."

"I had a right to go," the X6 insisted stubbornly. "I care about Max, too."

"It wasn't about that," Alec replied, shaking his head.

"You didn't think I could handle it."

"I didn't think _I _could handle it, Dalton. There was a good chance this was going to be a one-way trip, and I wasn't going to have your blood on my hands. I was trying to protect you, all right?"

"It's _my_ life! What gives you the right to make that decision for me?!" the teenager countered angrily, unwilling to give up.

"I've got every fucking right!" Alec barked back. His nerves were shot, and he couldn't stop his own anger from rising in response to Dalton's. "Like it or not, I'm second in command around here, and that gives me the right to decide where you go, when you go, or _if_ you go, got it?" He didn't see the need to mention the fact that he had resigned his post at the time he'd made that decision.

Dalton's only response was a glare. Dammit, this was not how he had wanted things to go. Alec mentally cursed himself for letting his emotions get the better of him.

"You wanna take a swing at me?" he asked wearily, shoulders sagging. He was tired—of fighting, talking, thinking, of standing on his own two feet.

Which was probably why it took him by complete surprise when Dalton hit him with a right cross.

"Ow!" he yelled, his hand going to his cheekbone, a look of utter shock on his face.

Dalton eyes narrowed, fists still clenched. "You asked for it."

"I didn't think you'd actually _do_ it!"

The X6 cross his arms over his chest. "Then I guess you don't know me as well as you thought."

Alec eyed his young friend. He looked different. Older, but it was more than just height or weight. It was his eyes; they were different. The blind hero worship that had always been there was gone.

"I guess not," Alec said quietly, probing gingerly at the already swelling flesh around his eye. He would have a shiner for sure. The kid had grown up on him when he wasn't looking.

Dalton would probably forgive him eventually, just like he would probably forgive Mole and the others eventually, but it wouldn't be easy and it wouldn't be quick. Sorries wouldn't cut it. All he could hope for was that eventually, they would all learn to trust each other again.

He wasn't exactly sure about how to go about earning that trust, but dwelling on the past was not the way to get it done. Max was home—bruised and battered, but nothing that wouldn't heal with time. No one had died to save her. Hell, no one had even been wounded, if you didn't count the damage he'd done to himself trying to break out of the isolation room.

It was time to move on.

"Wanna wait with me?" he asked, offering an olive branch. He glanced back at the Medical building, looking a little embarrassed as he scratched the back of his head. "Vash kicked me out."

Dalton hesitated, cautious. He'd shocked himself when he'd punched Alec. He hadn't even pulled it. He hadn't been sure how the X5 would take it, especially considering all Alec had been through in the past week. Calm acceptance wouldn't have been his guess.

"Okay," Dalton said finally.

It wasn't that he was forgiving Alec… more like giving Alec the opportunity to make it up to him. They were family, and that's how family was supposed to work.

They walked back to Medical side by side—a man, and a boy who was well on his way to becoming one.

* * *

The tests didn't take long. While Widget finished patching Max up—putting in stitches where needed, applying bandages, taping her broken fingers together—Vash ran the blood tests personally. She ran them twice, just to be sure.

When she stood in front of Max again, she made sure that she met the other woman's eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, confirming with a look that White hadn't been lying. Max had been pregnant.

_Past tense_.

Max closed her eyes and nodded, lips compressing into a thin line. She didn't seem surprised. Deep down, she had known.

She gingerly lowered herself back down on the bed. She rolled over, shifting to try to find a comfortable position. There was none. Giving up, she settled down and went back to sleep.

* * *

Dalton kept him distracted for a while, though more with his presence than anything else. The kid didn't have much to say since he was still holding a bit of a grudge, but Alec could understand that, so he didn't mind. Wil came by and asked him a few questions, and the power finally came back on, but Vash still hadn't sent for him. They'd sent a small search team out for Joshua, but Alec wasn't worried. Josh knew those tunnels like the back of his hand; he probably had settled down in a bolt-hole until the military completed their patrols.

After a little over an hour of waiting around with no word on Max, his risked the doctor's infamous wrath and went in search of an update. Dalton tagged along, hoping he'd get a chance to see Max. On the way to Max's room, they passed Vash's office and were surprised to catch her in there cleaning up.

"You're done already?" Alec asked. Since the doctor hadn't sent someone to get him, he assumed that she'd still be busy patching Max up.

"Yeah," Vash confirmed. She didn't offer anything additional. With what she knew, it was better to say as little as possible. When Alec turned to head off down the hall in search of Max, she stepped in front of him. "Don't bother. She's asleep."

"Dammit, Vash, why is she still out? Shouldn't she be awake by now?" Alec asked, pushing a hand through his hair. All the anxiety came rushing back. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

_Oh, yeah,_ Vash thought, but she didn't say anything, and not just because of doctor/patient confidentiality. What had happened to Max was too private an insult to be discussed with a third person. If Max wanted Alec to know, she would tell him. Vash had no right to interfere, and she wasn't interfering…just delaying. She wanted to give Max a little more time to deal.

Unfortunately, that meant that she would have to find some way to deal with Alec.

"She was awake for a couple of minutes…" the doctor began, hoping to calm him down a little. Wrong choice of words.

"Why the hell didn't you call me?!" Alec yelled, moving to push past her, but Vash put a hand on his chest.

"Because she fell back asleep before I could send anyone after you. She's exhausted, Alec, and I won't have you go in there and disturb her."

"I won't disturb her," Alec protested. He tried to pull the puppy dog look that worked so well for Joshua. Too bad he didn't have any canine DNA; it might have worked better. Though he doubted even Joshua's puppy dog eyes would work on Vash; the woman had ice in her veins.

"You're such a bundle of nerves now, you can't help but disturb her," Vash said. "Give her an hour of uninterrupted sleep, then I'll let you go in and wait until she wakes up. Okay?" That should give Max a little time to deal with her own emotions before she had to deal with Alec's.

"I could pull rank," Alec offered half-heartedly. Even _he_ knew it was a weak threat.

Vash scoffed. "Go ahead and try it, pal. You may be boss man out there, but in here, what _I_ say goes."

"Damn it," he grumbled, pouting. He knew he'd lost.

"It's only an hour," Vash said, rolling her eyes at him. She walked past him and down the hall toward her office. When she was halfway there, she called out, "And don't even think about sneaking in, or I'll give you a shiner to match the one Dalton gave you."

Alec sighed and muttered, "_Damn_," under his breath.

"Busted," Dalton said out of the side of his mouth. He'd been standing off to the side, staying out of the fray but taking it all in.

"Shut up, Dalton," Alec told him, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall, sulking.

* * *

Three hours later, Max's eyes slowly opened. She blinked groggily; gradually, the room came into focus. She expected to see the white ceiling tiles and glaring fluorescent lights she'd seen ever other time she'd woken up over the past several days. She expected to feel hard metal under her and the constricted claustrophobia that came from being bound. But instead, she woke to soft lights and a semi-comfortable bed. She woke to a warm hand wrapped around hers and a dark-blonde head resting on the bed beside her. She heard the faint sound of snoring.

She'd never heard anything so wonderful in her life.

She slipped her hand from his and reached out to touch his hair. It felt rough and thick, as if he hadn't washed it for a couple of days, but that didn't matter. An overwhelming sense of relief came over her as she felt him—solid and real and wonderfully imperfect—beneath her hand. He wasn't a dream.

Alec shifted under her touch, waking. He raised his head, blinking sleepily at her. Then his eyes widened, and he sat up straight. "Hey. You're awake," he said, a smile creeping across his face.

"Hey," Max said huskily. Her heart began to pound at the sight of him, the knowledge of what had happened while she'd been captive weighing on her like a lead weight. He looked so happy to see her; he had no idea what she had done.

She swallowed hard. Her throat fell dry and raw. "Could I have some water?" she rasped, her hand trembling slightly as she gestured toward the pitcher on the table next to her.

"Right," he said, scrambling out of his chair. "Let me get that."

Max pressed the button to raise the head of the bed. Once she was in a sitting position, he handed her the glass, all the time watching her like a hawk in case she needed help. She knew he was only trying to help, but she couldn't help but think that he would see right through her to the truth she hadn't yet told him, that her guilt was written all over her face. But he only smiled down at her—a self-conscious smile that she'd only seen on the rare occasion that he was unsure of himself.

He took the cup of water when she was finished and sat back down in the chair, taking her hand back in his. He was like a bundle of energy about to explode, and it came across when he spoke, each word coming hard upon the next until it all seemed to run together.

"It's been crazy, trying to deal with everyone that wanted to see you. Dalton was here, and Joshua too—he was with me when we found you—but you were sleeping, so I told them they'd have to come back later when you woke up. I'm letting Vash handle the rest; she's scarier than I am. I pretty sure the entire population of TC has been hanging out front of the building in shifts, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Original Cindy should be here soon, I figured you'd want to see her, and I know she wants to see you…"

He broke off, hesitating as he looked down, uncertain. "I don't know how much you remember, Max, or what White told you, but Brand and the others… your team… they're gone. Sam, your twin—she's gone, too. White killed her, trying to make us think she was you."

"But you knew it wasn't me…" Max whispered, Alec's anxiety easing her own. Even though White had done everything he could to make Sam look like her, Alec had known.

"Yeah," he said, his voice becoming rough. "I knew." He didn't tell her the rest of it. She didn't need to know right now how everyone had given up on her.

He fell quiet, voice strangled by the lump that rose in his throat. He'd found her in time, but it so easily could've gone the other way. Instead of carrying her unconscious body back home, he could've been carrying her corpse. If White's men had gotten to her before he had…

His eyes burned as tears welled up. As he looked into Max's eyes, his lower lip began to tremble. "You really scared me, Maxie."

Max held out her arms. "Come here," she said, her own voice wavering.

Alec sat down on the edge of the bed, and she took him in her arms. She closed her eyes and breathed him in—the scent of home.

"You saved me," she sighed into his hair.

He sniffed and shook his head. "You saved yourself," he said, the words muffled against her neck. "All I did was provide the getaway car."

"No. It was _you, _Alec. _You're_ what got me through."

His breath hitched as he tried not to break down completely. She felt the wetness of tears. He held her gently, careful not to hurt her. She felt his ragged breathing against her neck as he tried to regain control of his emotions, his body trembling beneath her.

After a while, his breathing evened out, and the tension in his muscles eased. He sniffed and risked hugging her a little tighter. "Don't do that to me again, okay?"

"I'll try not to," she murmured into his hair, trying to ignore how different it felt to hold him. It was as if the secret hidden inside of her had slipped between them, creating an invisible barrier that kept them separate, even though they were touching. She wondered if he felt it.

Her capture had taken its toll on him. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. She could feel it in the way his body had become leaner, harsher, in the days she'd been gone. She knew Alec, maybe better than she knew herself. He probably hadn't slept, had barely eaten, since she'd disappeared. Finding her would've become his obsession, making him blind to everything else, including his own safety.

What would happen if she told him about what White had done? If she told him about the baby? What if…?

No. There were no what ifs. She knew _exactly_ what would happen.

She couldn't tell him. Not now. Maybe not ever.

* * *

Logan stepped into the Medical Building, Original Cindy following close behind. Both of them were flushed from the cold and covered with a fine powder of snow.

The unusual weather pattern was confounding meteorologists and had brought a city unused to snow to a virtual standstill. Outside the gates of Terminal City, adults and kids alike frolicked in the snow, taking advantage of the unexpected vacation. Inside Terminal City, however, things were different.

Everyone, from the oldest transhuman to the youngest X8, was hyper-alert and ready for battle. Logan had felt the eyes on him—an unfamiliar face worthy of suspicion; he'd stayed away too long. Thankfully, he was with Original Cindy; she was not only accepted, but loved. He figured there was a good chance that if she hadn't been around, he might have been dragged away by a few overzealous transgenics for interrogation.

Down the hall, he saw Alec step out of a room. Someone must've let him know that they were there.

"Ugh," Cindy said in mock disgust. "This snow is hell on the wardrobe, I swear." She backed away and made a play of dusting the snow off of her coat so that Logan and Alec would have a chance to talk man to man. She'd pried the story of what had happened out of Logan on the way over, so she knew that Logan had helped save her girl. Considering their history, she figured the two of them might have some things to work out.

But if they took more than two minutes, she would start bustin' down doors 'til she found Max.

"Logan," Alec called out as he approached. He nodded to Original Cindy, who gave him a little wave and then went back to dusting the snow off of her clothes. Alec smiled a little at her obvious ploy, then turned back to Logan. "I don't know how to thank you, man."

Logan shrugged, feeling a little weird at the open gratitude. He wasn't used to it… not from Alec, at least. "It's not necessary."

"You ever need a favor," the transgenic said, "I'm there. Just name it."

Logan nodded solemnly, feeling a shift occurring between them. The old animosity and resentment was fading away. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You hear from Asha?"

"Yeah. She sent me a text, said she got away clean, no problems. She's good at what she does."

"She is that," Alec agreed. He fell silent, thinking. He wasn't really sure if he should make the offer, because Max still had a lot of residual anger when it came to Logan, but then he decided to ask anyway. The man had helped save her life, and Max was just going to have to deal with that. "So… you want to see her?"

Logan hesitated, thinking about the talk he'd had with Asha. He'd told her that he was over Max, but was he really? He wanted to say yes, but seeing her again had brought back so many things that were probably best forgotten.

He shook his head. "Nah, that's okay. I think it's better for both of us if I don't."

Alec understood. He held out his hand. Logan shook it. "Thank you," Alec told him. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"Don't mention it."

* * *

After Logan left—with an escort that Alec insisted on sending with him—Original Cindy moved over to Alec and felt completely mortified when he wrapped her in a big hug. She was the worst kind of person in the history of ever.

"Cindy," Alec said warmly, ignorant of the turmoil inside of his friend. "Thanks for coming so quickly."

Cindy scoffed to cover how worked up she felt. Max was alive, and she had doubted that. How could she have doubted that? "Couldn't keep me away."

"Come on. I'll take you to her room. I'm sure seeing you will make her feel a little better."

Alec started to lead her down the hall, and she could've let him and let the whole thing blow over. But then she'd have guilt, and guilt was hell on the complexion. Before he'd taken another step, she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him aside.

"Boo, I feel like dirt," she gushed. "_Lower_ than dirt. The stuff under the dirt. Whatever the lowest possible thing is, that's me."

Alec felt his lips quirk. It was impossible to stay mad at Original Cindy. "There's a lot of that going on these days."

OC stood with her feet apart, bracing herself. "You wanna take a swing at a sister, she can take it."

"I'm sure you could," Alec said with a chuckle. It had been the same offer he'd made Dalton. Lucky for Cindy, he wasn't planning on giving the same response. "But I don't want to hit you."

"Come on, Alec." She jutted out her chin. "Make a girl feel better."

"All right. If you insist," Alec said. He made a fist, then reached up and bopped OC gently on the chin. "Better?" he asked.

She smiled at him. Max really was a lucky girl. "You sure you don't have a clone of the female-like persuasion floating around out there?"

This made Alec laugh out loud. It felt wonderful to laugh again. "I'm pretty sure."

"Damn. Well, can't blame me for trying." Her face fell, and she suddenly became serious. She placed her hands on his shoulders and looked up into his eyes. "I want you to know, I swear I will never doubt a word you say ever again, no matter how crazy it sound. You tell me the sky is fallin', Original Cindy is first in line for a hard hat."

Alec smirked down at her. "Man, I could have _sooo_ much fun with that," he said, and got a smack on the arm for it. The smirk turned into a smile. "Think you could stay a day or two? After what she's been through, I think Max could use the girl time."

"Hey, a little toxic waste can't stand in the way of girl time. Lead the way."

* * *

Cindy burst into tears the moment she saw her. Before he'd let her in the room, Alec had told her to prepare herself, but nothing could have prepared her for how Max looked. She wasn't dead, but she had come pretty close to it. OC sobbed like a baby as Max took her in her arms, hanging on nice and tight. After she calmed down a bit, Cindy pulled back, wiping the tears from her face.

"Shouldn't this be the other way around?" she asked, sniffing. "I should be the one trying to make you feel better."

Max smiled weakly, shifting on the bed to give OC more room. "You being here makes me feel better."

Cindy took a look a Max and shook her head. "Girl, you're a mess," she scolded, reaching up to push a stray lock of Max's ragged hair behind her ear. She was trying to keep it light, because if she didn't, she was afraid she would start blubbering again, and that wouldn't really be helpful.

"I'm so tired I don't even care."

"I heard that." She fell silent. She tried not to stare, but it was hard not to. There was barely a place on Max that didn't have some sort of cut or bruise; her body was a road map of destruction. "God, Max. It must've been awful."

Max's eyes drifted, remembering. "It was."

Cindy wrapped her arms around Max again and squeezed gently. She didn't have the words to make it better. There probably weren't any words that _would_ make it better. All she could do was be there for as long as she could, and hope that she could somehow help ease the pain.

* * *

They talked for a little while, though Original Cindy did most of the talking. Max was quiet, distant, but who wouldn't be after what she'd gone through? OC kept talking, hoping that eventually Max would open up. She talked about the crazy weather, about Jam Pony, their friends on the outside. Safe topics, but still, Max hardly said two words. Eventually, OC moved on to what had happened while she was gone, describing the funeral they'd had for Max.

"It was the most horrible thing I've ever had to get through. I swear, Normal even cried. Everyone said nice things about you… Mole too, if you can believe it. I feel bad for your twin, though. There she was, lying there with nobody saying any goodbyes to her. Poor girl."

Max didn't say anything, simply nodded. She was still torn up with guilt over Sam's death; after all, Sam had been killed because of her. Just one more thing to add to the heaping pile weighing down her conscience.

"Course, Alec knew it was her all along. Refused to come to the funeral. Said he wasn't going to mourn you when you weren't dead. Yo' boy is really amazing, you know that, boo? Didn't matter what anyone else told him—he _knew_. He never once stopped keepin' the faith. Everybody thought he was crazy. They locked him up and everything, thinkin' it was for his own good. Thought he was gonna go all Rambo or some such."

"They locked him up?"

"Yeah. He didn't tell you?"

"No. He didn't." God. It must've driven him mad, knowing that she was out there somewhere and unable to get to her.

"Girlfriend, you should see what that boy did to the Isolation Room, trying to get to you. He really loves you, you know?"

"I know."

Instead of making her feel better, it made her feel worse. Alec had done everything he could to get to her, even fighting against his own people. He'd never given up on her, and she'd gone and let him down. She'd lost his child. If she'd been stronger, maybe she could've found the baby before it was too late.

Original Cindy could tell there was something wrong with Max, something more than just physical damage. She could see it in her eyes, something hiding beneath the surface. She was about to ask her about it when Joshua came to the door, hesitating when he saw Cindy was already inside.

"Hey, Doggy Dog," she called out, standing. Her question would have to wait. "Hear you're a big hero."

Joshua looked down and shuffled his feet in embarrassment. "Didn't do much. Alec is the hero. He didn't give up."

Cindy walked over to him. "I know a hero when I see one." She gave him a big hug. "Thanks for helping save our girl."

Joshua returned the hug, smiling shyly. "You're welcome."

Cindy pulled away and looked from Joshua to Max. "I'm sure you guys wanna catch up, so I'll make myself scarce." Before either of them could protest, she added, "I'm gonna hit up the caf for some hot coffee. I swear I froze my ass off gettin' here. I'll be back as soon as my booty thaws." With that, she slipped out the door.

"Hey, Big Fella," Max said, holding her arms out for a hug. Joshua's great bulk enveloped her, so carefully that he barely touched her. She pulled her head back and looked up at him. "You call that a hug?"

Joshua looked consternated. "Didn't want to hurt you."

"Come on," she goaded. "Give me a real one. I can take it."

He hugged her a little harder, but still barely enough that she felt it. It looked like she would have to be the one to do the hugging. She tightened her arms around him and was shocked by how weak her own body was. Maybe Joshua had a point.

"Thanks for having Alec's back and coming to rescue me," she murmured into his soft flannel shirt.

"Wish we could've gotten there quicker. Joshua would give anything in this world to have spared you the pain."

Max sighed. She no longer saw the room around her, but a glowing cylindrical tube. "I wish that too. But what's done is done."

Now all she had to do was learn how to live with the consequences.

* * *

After a mildly heated argument, Vash and Alec agreed to let Max go back to their apartment. Then they argued about how to get her there.

"I can walk," Max insisted for the third time. She was tired and cranky and just wanted to go home.

"No way, Maxie," Alec said, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. She'd hounded him to death about taking care of himself after he'd been shot, and it was about damn time he got to return the favor.

"As much as I hate to do it, I have to agree with Alec," the doctor said. "There's no reason to wear yourself out your first day back."

"Why don't you ride in the supply truck?" Alec offered, referring to the small truck they used to run supplies around TC.

"Uh uh. No way." If she rode in the truck, she would look weak. She _was_ weak, but there was no reason she had to advertize the fact.

"It's either the truck or I carry you," Alec threatened. He knew exactly why Max wanted to walk, but he wasn't going to have her slow her recovery because she was stubborn.

"Fine," Max said through clenched teeth. After a quick call and five minutes later, she was sitting in the truck, being escorted back to their apartment, with Alec behind the wheel and Original Cindy tucked on the other side.

Once they got there, Max thought the drama was over, but she was wrong. Alec wanted to carry her up the stairs.

Like Hell.

This launched another argument, with yelling on her part and a lot of calm, placating tones on Alec's that was annoying the hell out of her.

"I can walk up a couple flights of steps," Max insisted. As she went to put her foot down on the first step, she saw Alec reach for her out of the corner of her eye. She held her hand up in warning. "And I swear to God, you pick me up, I will smack you. I may be beat to Hell, but I can still kick your ass."

Alec held up his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say, Maxie."

Eight steps later, she had to stop. She turned her head and saw Alec leaning against the wall opposite her, patiently waiting with his arms crossed over his chest.

Max frowned at him. "Don't look so smug."

Alec only shrugged. "Been there, done that. _Remember_?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I hate you."

He smirked. He couldn't help but enjoy giving her a little taste of her own medicine. "I know."

OC, who had been watching the whole thing, shook her head at them and moved up the steps between them. "How the hell you two haven't killed each other after all this time, I'll never know."

Max growled at this, but Alec continued to wait patiently, his eyebrows raised at her in question. Max rolled her eyes at him.

"So are you gonna help me or not?" she complained, irritated to admit defeat.

Alec's smile widened, his eyes twinkling. He picked her up in one smooth motion, cradling her to his chest. "Your wish is my command, my lady."

* * *

Alec helped her up the stairs. Then he helped her to settle on the couch, helped grab a blanket, pillows, a glass of water… he was so intent on helping, and God knows she loved him for it, but he was driving her crazy. There was such a thing as too much help. Original Cindy wisely stayed out of the way, puttering around the kitchen cleaning counters that were already clean. While Max was still unconscious in Medical, Alec had rounded up a group of volunteers to clean their apartment from top to bottom in preparation for Max's return. Even though transgenics weren't that susceptible to infection, he hadn't wanted to risk it.

Max grabbed Alec as he was about to go off and get another blanket, tugging him down on the couch beside her. "I don't need another blanket. Will you sit still for a minute? You're making me dizzy."

"Do you mean dizzy like I should call Vash or dizzy like I'm driving you nuts?"

She gave him a little smile and patted his hand. "The second one, babe."

He ducked his head. "Sorry. I guess I got a little carried away." He looked a little crestfallen, and it made her feel bad for saying anything.

"There is something you can do for me," she offered.

"Anything," he replied immediately. He wanted so desperately to make her feel better, to make up for everything that had happened to her because he hadn't gotten to her sooner. Most of that hadn't been his fault, but it didn't stop him from blaming himself.

Max leaned forward until their foreheads were almost touching. "Take a shower," she stage whispered.

Alec drew his head back in shock. "A shower?"

"Yeah," Max said, poking him in the ribs. "You're scruffy." He didn't react, staring at her as if he didn't really believe her. "And you smell," she added, wrinkling her nose.

"I'm not that bad," Alec complained defensively, but Max just raised her eyebrows at him. He breathed in, and okay, maybe she did have a point, dammit, but he'd been busy. He huffed, "Okay, fine. But just a quick one."

"And don't forget to shave. The beard makes me itch."

"Should I cut my hair while I'm at it? Maybe give myself a manicure? I'm sure Cindy could give me pointers…"

"Just get cleaned up," she interrupted, giving him a playful shove towards the bathroom. "You can fuss over me some more when you're clean."

"I'm going. I'm going," Alec grumbled, getting up from the couch and shuffling off toward the bathroom.

* * *

Once he was in the bathroom and the shower was running, Original Cindy watched as Max seemed to crumple. She'd known what Max had been doing, even if Alec didn't. It was obvious the boy so desperately wanted Max to be okay that he let her fool him into thinking she was, but all of the frontin' was wearing Max down.

Her friend was keeping something from Alec; Cindy was certain of it. She didn't know what it was, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Those kind of secrets never were.

She'd get it out of Max, but later, when Alec wasn't around. There was no way Max would talk around him.

Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long. It was a good thing too, because she didn't think Max could hold out much longer.

Five minutes after Alec came out of the bathroom with towel-dried hair and smooth cheeks, a call came in from Command. Corporal PF (whose real name, she found out later, Higgins—PF stood for Peach Fuzz) had been calling trying to get a hold of Max or Alec for days, apparently. Colonel Flanagan had taken off somewhere on vacation, and he'd left the very green and very by-the-book PF in charge. They'd put him off for as long as they could, but they'd run out of excuses, and if he didn't get to talk to someone other than Mole soon, he was threatening search of TC, dropping articles and section numbers to prove he had the right.

"Can't Mole handle it? Or Wil?" Alec said into the radio, his eyes on Max. He had this irrational fear that if he let her out of his sight, he'd never see her again. It was completely ridiculous, he knew, but he couldn't shake it.

_He speaks to Mole one more time_, came Luke's voice through the radio, _I can almost guarantee a full military invasion. It has to be you, Alec._

Max came up beside him and called out, "He'll be right there, Luke."

_Max? Is that you?_

"The one and only," she replied.

_Man, it's great to hear your voice._

"Thanks, Luke. Don't worry about Alec. I'll make sure he gets there and handles the dealio with PF."

_Copy that. We're all glad you're back. Command out._

Max looked up at Alec, and she could see the worry in his eyes. She stepped into him, wrapping her arms around him and feeling his close about her in return. "Go," she said. "Take care of this. I'll be all right."

"I don't know, Max…"

"All I'm going to do is sleep, anyway. It's no big deal. Besides, Original Cindy will be here if I need something."

A line of worry creased Alec's brow. "Are you sure?"

"We're home. I'm safe. _Go_."

Alec leaned down and kissed her, his warm lips lingering against hers so tenderly that it made her want to weep. She didn't deserve such tenderness.

He pulled back, looking down at her as if he was trying to memorize every inch of her face. "I'll try to make it quick."

Max smiled crookedly. "Good luck with that."

Alec rolled his eyes as he turned to head for the door. "Tell me about it."

He grabbed his coat and shrugged into it as he walked to the door. His hand was on the knob when a thought struck him and his stopped, turned. "Hey, Max?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you," he said, fulfilling the promise he'd made to himself when he thought he might never see her again.

Max hesitated. Would he feel still the same way if he knew?

"I love you, too," she said finally.

* * *

After Alec was gone, Max bypassed the bedroom and headed for the straight for the bathroom.

"Thought you were goin' to take a nap?" Cindy asked, trailing behind her. She'd been planning on waiting until after Max got some rest to talk to her, but if she wasn't planning to go to sleep…

"I don't want to take a nap. I want a shower." Max went to tug her shirt off, but her stitches protested, sending frissons of pain through her body. She sighed; she hated feeling like an invalid. "Think you could give me a hand?"

OC eyed Max doubtfully. "Are you sure you should be doing that, with all the stitches and such? I thought you weren't supposed to get 'em wet for a day or two."

"I was tortured for days. I think I can deal with getting my stitches wet," Max answered pissily.

"_Boo_," Cindy scolded.

Max pushed her hair back from her face. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I don't mean to take it out on you. It's just… I'll feel better if I get a shower." She could still smell them on her. White, Gaines, the techs, the guards—maybe if she could get the smell of them off of her, she could forget.

Cindy walked over to her and put a hand on her arm. "Well, I guess it's a good a place to start as any.

* * *

After a shower and an unwanted first aid session, enforced by Original Cindy, Max sat on the bed and let herself drift as Cindy combed the wet tangles from her hair. The gentle tugs were soothing. Another hour or two of this, she might almost feel normal.

Normal. Right.

She hadn't noticed that Cindy was calling her name until her friend gave her a nudge in the back.

"_Max_."

"What?" she said, coming out of her daze.

"I only said your name 'bout three times now."

"Oh." She had to snap out of it. If she didn't snap out of it, someone would figure out something was wrong.

Someone like her best friend.

"Something's bugging you," Cindy prompted, hoping that Max would open up and yet at the same time afraid that she _would_. It was bad enough seeing the aftermath of what had been done to Max. Hearing it right from Max's lips… it would be hard to take, but if it would help Max get through it, then she could deal.

"My entire body feels like one big bruise," Max covered, trying to put Cindy off with a slice of the truth.

"It's more than that, and we both know it, shugga." She felt Max stiffen. Whatever it was, it was bad. "I'm here for you, you know that, don't you? You wanna unload on a sister, you go right ahead. You know I'll stick, no matter."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"It's eatin' you up inside, Max," Cindy prodded. Max, true to character, remained stubbornly silent. God forbid she would ever admit that she needed help. Well, if she was going to play it that way, than Cindy decided she'd play hard ball too. "How long you think you can keep this up, boo? Sooner or later, he's gonna find out you're hidin' somethin' from him. I can see it, Max, and so will he, once he gets his head on straight again."

Max got up from the bed and went to the window. Dark had fallen while she'd been in the shower, turning the window from an escape to the outside world to an unforgiving mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, silent and accusing.

She'd thought she could hold it in, but she hadn't even been able to get through a day. Not one single day. Cindy was right. She had to tell somebody, or it was going to destroy her from the inside out.

"Boo?"

"Do yourself a favor," Max told Cindy, her eyes locked on her own reflection. "Go get the bottle of scotch Alec has stashed behind the bucket under the sink. You're gonna need it."

* * *

Sitting on the floor below the window, Max told her everything. Sam's death. White and Gaines. The torture. The baby. The words poured out of her like a flood; once they started, she couldn't hold them back.

True to Max's prediction, Original Cindy had to knock back a glass of scotch before she could listen to the rest of the tale.

"I kept looking and looking," Max continued, "but the place was like a maze, and I was so weak and dizzy… blood loss, lack of food and water, pick your poison. I got shot, and… things got fuzzy. I lost track. All that I could remember was that I had to run. Run away. Then Alec was there, and I passed out. By the time I woke up, it was too late. We were back in Terminal City."

"What're you going to do?"

"What _can_ I do? There's no point. Without me to keep Gaines occupied..." Her stomach heaved at the thought of what the doctor could have done in the time she'd been gone.

"Couldn't there still be a chance…?"

A chance. Right. Like Gaines was sitting around, twiddling her thumbs while she had a home-grown transgenic fetus right under her nose. "You don't know her, Cin. That woman is evil. She wouldn't let anything stand in the way of her and her precious _research_." Max paused and let her head fall to her knees. "This is all my fault."

Original Cindy felt so shell shocked by what she had been told that she didn't even argue the point. "How do you think Alec will take it?" she asked.

Max raised her head. "I'm not going to tell him."

"_Max_," Cindy said in disbelief.

"I _can't_. He'll hate me."

"Girl, you know that ain't true."

"Why not? _I_ hate me."

"Come on, Max. You didn't know."

"Doesn't change what happened. I was pregnant, and now I'm not. If I hadn't gone on that fucking mission…" He'd told her not to go. Begged her not to go. How could he _not_ blame her?

Her… and one other person.

"God, Cin, I can't tell him. I can't risk it."

Cindy was about to argue, but then she caught the look in Max's eyes. It wasn't the self loathing that had been in Max's eyes since she'd been back; it was fear. "You think he'll get hisself in trouble."

"I think he'll get himself killed. I can't lose him too." At Cindy's silence, she got up and pulled Cindy from the bed to face her. It was easy to see the disapproval in her friend's eyes. Max's grip tightened. "You can't tell him, Cindy. Promise me you won't tell him."

"Won't tell me what?"

Max's head whipped around at the sound of Alec's voice coming from the doorway, her hands involuntarily clenching so hard that Original Cindy yelped. She hadn't heard him coming. How much had he overheard? OC made a move to leave, but Max held on tight. She couldn't face him alone.

"Max?" Alec said warily. He could feel the waves of tension radiating from her from all the way across the room. Something was wrong. "Is this about what happened to you?" he asked, stepping into the room.

"Yes," she answered thickly. But she couldn't continue.

"Maxie?" She wouldn't look at him. Why wouldn't she look at him? What could be so bad that she couldn't tell him…

A terrible thought crossed his mind. "Did they… were you …" He couldn't say it. Couldn't even think it. God, if someone had… if they'd forced her… _Christ_.

She knew what he meant. She walked back to the window, looking out at the snow-covered streets. "No, not that," she replied, though she had come close. Gaines, of all people, had stopped that. "_Worse_ than that," she added so softly that he barely heard her.

"_Worse?_" Alec was really worried now. He had no clue what could've happened to her. Something worse than rape? What the hell had happened to her in there? He looked to OC for help, but she shook her head. He had to hear it from Max.

Max bowed her head and took a deep breath.

_Tell him. Just tell him. He has a right to know. _

"White. He… took something from me."

Alec's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, he took …" and he stopped midsentence as Max turned, tugging her loose sleep pants down so he could see the scar. It was deep pink and already healing, a thin puckered line across her lower abdomen. He stared at it, his confusion clear in his eyes, until it hit him. The location of the scar. The way Max had been acting. Heat. Everything fell into place and then fell apart.

She'd been pregnant. Max had been pregnant with his child.

He closed his eyes, but all he could see was what could have been. Max sitting next to the window, rocking, a tiny fist grasping one of her fingers; small arms reaching up to him, begging to be picked up; walking hand in hand, their child swinging between them—scenes of a life snatched away because he had failed her.

It was all his fault. White had killed their child, and it was all his fault. If he'd gotten to her quicker, if he hadn't wasted so much time, if he had only stopped her from going in the first place... The weight of his despair became overwhelming, and he slowly sank to his knees, head hanging in defeat.

Max closed the distance between them and knelt in front of him. She reached out to touch his cheek, and he flinched away from her touch.

"Alec," she said softly.

He couldn't speak. All he could do was shake his head in denial, as if by refusing to accept it he could somehow make it not be true. She took his face in her hands, feeling his body tremble underneath her touch. She touched her forehead to his and murmured, "It'll be okay."

It was this—coming from Max, who had gone through Hell in the past couple of days—that finally broke him. A sob escaped his throat and he wrapped himself around her, pulling her so close that they almost appeared to be one person.

"_Max_," he sobbed, a desperate plea, but for what, he didn't know.

Original Cindy slipped out of the room as quietly as she could, tears in her eyes and a hand over mouth to stifle her sobs. It hadn't seemed real when Max had told her what happened, she'd been so unemotional about it. Seeing Alec break down made her feel the depth of what her friends had lost.

After she was gone, Max and Alec held onto each other for long time.

* * *

Hours later, they lay together on top of the covers, fully clothed, their bodies spooned together. Alec's arm was wrapped around Max, but she could barely feel it. He was probably afraid that the weight of his arm might hurt her after what she had been through. She would have welcomed it, if only to reassure her that he was really there.

They were both exhausted, but neither of them could sleep. All they could do was stare blankly at the walls, barely saying a word to each other. What could they say? They were both too busy blaming themselves to understand that neither blamed the other for what had happened. They were each drowning in their own separate yet similar guilt.

Max didn't want to close her eyes. She knew that she needed the rest, but every time her lids fell shut, horrifying images would flash through her head. A gloved hand, reaching through glowing ooze to grasp a tiny fetus. Dr. Gaines, smiling coldly as she cut into delicate tissue. Preparing slides, tests tubes, until there was nothing left…

Her stomach rolled. The watered-down juice and slice of toast that Alec had coaxed her into eating earlier wasn't sitting well. She breathed through it, until the wave of nausea subsided.

She couldn't tell Alec. She couldn't do that to him. He'd already been through enough. The baby was gone. What point was there in hurting him further by telling him what the Familiars were doing to it?

They had to move on. It was the only thing they could do. She couldn't change the past, but maybe she could offer a little hope for the future.

When she finally spoke, the sound of her own voice started her after the long silence. "I… I can still have a baby. White didn't take that from me, at least."

Alec stiffened, then immediately forced himself to relax. "Okay," he said, careful to keep his tone neutral.

It was the one thing he had been afraid to ask her about. He hadn't wanted her to think that her ability to have a child with him was all he cared about, or that it even made a difference. It wasn't that he didn't want to start a family with her one day, but he wouldn't love her any less if she couldn't. He knew how important family was to Max, though, so he had worried in silence for her sake.

Max continued, her voice soft and so unlike the Max he had known. "Vash said their butchers did an okay job of sewing me back up, and transgenic healing capabilities should take care of the rest. There shouldn't be any permanent damage."

Alec worried about the damage that had been done to her mentally. Max hadn't cried since he'd found her. Not one single tear. It was like she'd cut herself off from anything that might touch her heart.

"So…," Max continued, her voice quavering a little, "I can still have a baby. In case you were wondering."

He could hear the doubt and worry in her voice. If it had been two weeks ago, he would have been hurt that she thought he might love her less for it, but things were different now. After what she had been through, he wondered if they would ever be the same again.

"I'm glad that you can still have a baby, Max, but I wasn't wondering. It wouldn't have made a difference to me, either way," he said, softly reassuring. "I love you, and nothing's gonna change that. All that matters is that you're okay."

"I'm fine," Max said, a little too quickly. They both knew it was a lie. Alec didn't call her on it, just pulled her closer.

Sometimes a lie was gentler than the truth.

* * *

Alec waited a long time until Max fell asleep. He lay there for hours, listening to the pattern of her breathing, feeling her chest rise and fall beneath his arm. Eventually, her muscles relaxed, and her breathing slowed and evened out. It felt like it had been forever since he'd been able to lay beside her like this, in the dark.

He quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb her.

He moved quickly and quietly. He grabbed his gun and stuffed it into the waistband of his jeans. Only the one. He wouldn't need anything else. They wouldn't see him coming until it was too late.

He was going to kill Ames White with his bare hands.

He grabbed his jacket and headed out of the apartment. He didn't once look back.

He made it all the way to the tunnel before someone tried to stop him. It was the one he'd used to slip out the first time. His booted feet had barely hit the floor before he heard someone call out, "Stop."

It was Zev. Of course it would be Zev.

"I thought you'd try this exit," she said. She had her gun trained on him, holding it with both hands to try to hide the slight tremor in them.

"Get out of my way, Zev."

Behind him, he heard a small splash, then the sound of someone signaling into a radio. Wil.

They were going to try to stop him again. He wasn't going to let that happen. Not this time. He was going to kill Ames White, no matter what it took.

Alec took a step toward her, and she readjusted her aim. "I'll shoot you if I have to," she threatened.

He took another step toward her. "Go ahead. Shoot. 'Cause that's the only way you're going to stop me."

"_Zev_," Wil said in warning from somewhere behind him.

Alec took another step, and then another. A few more feet, and he'd be able to disarm her. Just when he thought he'd called her bluff and was ready to make his move, she fired.

The gun made a soft popping noise, and he felt a sharp sting in his chest. He looked down and saw a tranquilizer dart sticking out of him.

No. He couldn't let this happen. He had to kill him. He had to kill Ames White.

Alec lunged for her, and she fired twice more, burying darts in his chest and shoulder. Beginning to stumble, he reached her and shoved, sending her into the wall. He staggered down the tunnel, forced to put a hand against the wall when everything began to spin. He felt a hand close over his arm and he lashed out, punching wildly, but he overbalanced and spun around until he fell into Wil. Zev grabbed his other arm and the two of them started to haul him back.

He fought as hard as he could with what strength he had left, and he somehow managed to throw them off. He started off down the tunnel again, tripping over his own feet, when Wil tackled him from behind and took him to the ground.

He fought back, not caring when Wil yelped in pain as his cast smacked into a pipe, jarring his healing arm. Not caring when his fist connected with Zev's cheekbone. He was beyond caring.

"Alec, stop!" he heard a familiar voice yell. Something about that voice made him stop.

Wil and Zev released him, and he made a wobbly roll to his knees. He looked up, wavering as the tunnel spun on him. He blinked a couple of times and tried to focus. It was then that he saw her, a dark vision standing on the bottom rung of the ladder. She stepped off and walked toward him, and she didn't look surprised at all.

She hadn't been asleep after all.

"Max?" The word was shocked, accusing.

She came to her knees in front of him, her movements stiff and jerky from her healing wounds. "I left standing orders to stop you at any cost," Max said apologetically.

Alec bent forward, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut. His head began to throb, begging for him to succumb to the tranquilizer, but he couldn't. Couldn't. They'd lock him up, toss him in a room again and throw away the key. He wouldn't get out, not ever, 'cause even Max had turned against him.

Max grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him up to face her. She brushed the hair out of his face, and he heart ached at the sight of him. She'd never seen him look this way before—hurt and wild and on the edge, ready to plunge headlong into the dark.

"Maxie," he gasped, fighting the heaviness falling over his body. "I need to go. You have to let me go."

Max shook her head softly and touched his cheek. "I can't."

Alec grabbed her jacket and used her to help keep himself upright, almost knocking her over in his drugged clumsiness. He pulled her down until her face was right in front of his. "I have to kill him, Max."

"I know. But I can't let you do it."

Alec's eyes were full of confusion; he didn't understand why she was fighting him on this. "But I _have_ to."

God, would it ever stop? Even though she had escaped, White could still hurt her. Hurt them both. "I'm sorry," she said, the only thing she had left to say.

"_Please_," he begged desperately, yanking her closer. His body began to list to one side.

She wrapped her hands around Alec's, which were still fisted in her coat, and lowered him down, gathering him up on her lap. She ignored the pain the weight of his caused. "You'll only end up getting yourself killed."

He shook his head vehemently, using up the last of his energy. "I don't care."

As his eyes fluttered and began to close, Max leaned over him and whispered into his ear.

"I _do_."

* * *

Mole, Wil, and Zev were all hanging out in the corridor in Medical, outside of the room where they'd deposited Alec's unconscious body. Dix couldn't make it, since he was stuck in Command trying to fix yet another problem with the surveillance cameras, but Joshua was there. They'd sent Original Cindy home, with promises to keep her posted; she'd already stayed past the point where it was safe.

They were all trying to figure out what they should do with Alec, hopefully before the sedative wore off. Widget was in there monitoring him, just in case. They were reluctant to lock him up, considering what had happened the last time, but they had to do something. If he hadn't been on a suicide mission before, he was now. All of the sudden, he was obsessed with killing Ames White. The only person who knew what had set him off was Max, and she wasn't talking... yet. If she thought she could let this one slide by without an explanation, she had another thing coming.

Of course, Vash had to complicate things by monopolizing Max. She'd taken one look at their leader and dragged her off, scolding her about lack fluids and sugars or whatever. She did have a point, though. Max did look like death warmed over.

They'd gone through five different solutions and rejected them all. It was pointless. Until they understood what was going on, they couldn't deal with the situation. "Hey, Josh?" Mole asked, turning to the big dog man. "Can you go see what's taking them so long? I'd go, but Vash would probably bite my head off."

Joshua made a face. "Wound't taste very good."

"Funny," Mole deadpanned. "Will you go?"

Joshua nodded. "Get the 411 on Max. Copy that." With a rambling shuffle, he moved down the hall toward the other treatment room.

A minute later, they were still milling around waiting for Max when Widget came flying through the door, but not by his own accord. He crashed into a cart sitting by the wall, sending bandages and other supplies flying. From inside the room came a howl of rage.

"He's awake!" Zev yelled and darted into the room. The others were hard on her heels, with Widget scrambling to his feet after them.

* * *

"She needs another five minutes…"

"I'm fine," Max interrupted Vash, moving to pull the IV out of her arm.

"Touch that and die."

"Vash is right. Waiting is better…" Joshua said hesitantly, shrinking away from the two women. Only a fool would get in between two arguing alpha females.

"I don't have _time_ to wait around…"

"You'll have plenty of time once you've passed out and I have to haul your limp carcass onto a bed."

"I'm not going to…" Max shot back, but she was cut off by a loud crash. Their heads turned simultaneously toward the sound. "What was that?" Max asked, eyes wide. Then they heard a cry of such pure fury that it set the hairs on the back of their necks on end.

"Alec," Joshua said and took off down the hall.

Max ripped the IV out of her arm as she bolted for the door. Vash didn't say anything, just ran after her.

Max came to a skidding halt inside the door. What lay behind it was pure chaos.

Alec was absolutely determined that he was going to get out of Terminal City, and nothing and no one would stand in his way. Mole, Wil, Zev, Joshua, even Widget—they were all trying to stop him, but Alec would not be stopped. He kept fighting, striking out blindly at anything that stood between him and the door. He was wild, and he didn't care who he hurt, including himself. She'd never seen him like this…so completely out of control; Alec was all about control. It scared her to the point that found herself rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but watch.

Joshua finally managed to grab him from behind, wrapping his long arms around Alec in a great bear hug. It didn't stop Alec. He continued to fight, clawing and kicking; even as strong as he was, Joshua wouldn't be able to hold him for long.

Eventually, Alec would get out. And when he did that, she'd lose him forever.

Max rushed forward, spurred into action. She pushed her way through the others until she was face to face with the man she loved, barely recognizable in his frenzy. "Alec!" she called out, grabbing on to him and hanging on for dear life. Her body flared with pain as he continued to struggle, not recognizing it was her, but she didn't let go. "Alec, _please_," she begged. "Don't do this."

He stopped as soon as he realized what he was doing, who he was hurting. Joshua continued to hang on to him, but at Max's nod, he let go and stepped back, though prepared to jump in if he needed to.

Alec, breathing hard and sweating from exertion, stood there in the center of the room staring at Max. His eyes were such a mixture of grief and anger and hatred that it took her breath away. She swore that she could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

His entire body shook as he tried to contain everything that he was feeling, but it would not be contained. White had hurt Max. Killed his _child_. Ripped it out of Max's body like it was nothing, and she had the gall to tell him to do _nothing_?

"How can you stand there and be so calm?!" The angry words exploded from him before he could stop them, aimed right at Max. "Don't you even care?!"

"You know I do," she said quietly. She knew what he wanted of her, but she couldn't let go; if she did, she'd fall to pieces, and she couldn't afford to do that. She was a leader, and she had to be strong.

He didn't understand, but she couldn't blame him for it. He was dealing with it in his way, and she was dealing with it in hers. The problem was, his way would get him killed.

"But I can't let you do this," she added.

"He has to die for what he's done, Max. He has to _die_."

Mole's gaze bounced between Max and Alec, confused. One minute Alec was happy that Max was home, and the next, he was bent on killing White. It didn't make sense. What the hell was going on?

"I get you want payback, man, but this isn't the way to get it done. We need to wait, concentrate on coming up with a plan to deal with that drug they've got."

"No," Alec spat vehemently. "He dies. Not in a week. Not in a month. Now. You go ahead and make your plans; lock me up if you have to, but as soon as I get out, I'm making a beeline for White. You can't keep me locked up forever."

"I know you're upset about what he did to Max, but don't you think this is a little over the top? We got her back. She's mostly in one piece. What happened is not worth dying for."

"Not worth dying for? You don't know anything!" Alec spat. He turned his back on them, a muted scream in the back of his throat as he reached up and to pull on his hair until he thought he might yank it out. He was trying to keep it together, but all he could see was red.

Max stared at his back. She wished she could feel pain of it, share it with him. But all she felt was empty inside.

The others were looking at her with puzzled eyes. They didn't understand, either, but they would. There was no point in hiding it now.

"I was pregnant," she said emotionlessly, separating herself from the words as if she was talking about someone else entirely.

Those words filled the room like a tangible thing, shoving against them until there was no room left for anything else. They couldn't talk. They couldn't breathe. All they could do was stare in silence as the weight of those words sunk in.

"What?" Mole said finally, breaking the silence. He couldn't have heard her right, because if he'd heard her right, then that would mean that by stopping Alec from going after her… his head spun at the implication.

"I was pregnant," Max repeated softly. "White took the baby. He took our baby."

Alec grabbed the nearest chair and, with an outraged scream, flung it across the room and into the wall.

"Oh my God," Zev whispered, a hand to her mouth. She felt ill.

"They aborted your baby?" Wil asked, horrified.

"No," Max said, "not aborted." Then she hesitated, because she hadn't yet told Alec the next part.

She had hoped that she could spare him the pain, but Original Cindy was right. She couldn't keep this from him. And if she told him now, with everyone else there around them, they'd have a better chance of stopping him if he decided to run off in a blind rage.

"They kept it. When I last saw … " _Don't say _him, she thought, _not _him, "… the fetus… it was still alive."

"What?" Alec said sharply, confusion clouding his brain. His purpose had been so clear—a life for a life, Ames White for his child. But now this… it changed things. Could there still be a chance…? Why hadn't she told him?

Max could see the accusation in Alec's eyes, and she wasn't sure if she could make him understand. He hadn't been there. He hadn't seen the sick light in Gaines eyes when she'd taken the baby away.

"The bitch White had put in charge of torturing me had stuck it in some kind of stasis tube, kind of like what they had back at Manticore. It was still alive, but… before I broke free, she'd taken it away. Said she was going to use it as source material for her _experiments_."

They all knew what that meant.

Mole stuck his cigar in his mouth and lit it, sending Vash a glance that dared her to say something. "I don't think we can allow that, can we?" he asked, looking around the room.

"But… it's too late," Max said. "Gaines probably started experimenting the minute I was gone."

Mole shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Max Law #4, right? No one gets left behind."

"The odds of the fetus still being alive have got to be one in a billion," she added, her heart in her throat. She couldn't let herself believe that there was still a chance. She' didn't want to have to live through that loss a second time. She'd accepted it; she hadn't dealt with it, but she'd accepted it. Alec was the opposite—he couldn't accept it, but he sure as hell planned to deal with it. There was a flicker of hope in his eyes, one she couldn't share. He would believe there was still a chance, right up until the moment that his eyes told him otherwise.

The others in the room were already nodding at Mole, murmuring their approval. The transhuman began loading shells into his shotgun, his movements sharp and angry.

"Ames White and his Familiars have killed our people. They've still got one of our own. Hell, they'll wipe us all out with if we give them have a chance, and we know for a fact that they're already trying. It's time we stop playing around and finish this. I say we go in there and take those mothers out."

He chambered a round, the sound reverberating through the room, which was amazingly quiet for being so full of people. He flipped his shotgun up to his shoulder and stared at the crowd of transgenics around him.

"They want a war? We'll give 'em one."

* * *

A/N: And it's on!

Reviews are always appreciated.


	11. Ch 10: The Edge of Armageddon

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: So, the good news is, I haven't dropped off of the face of the planet (though, sometimes it _feels_ like I did). Real life issues aside, this chapter was very difficult for some reason. Every word put up a fight. It was the worst kind of writer's block, because instead of being unable to write, it seemed like all I could write was crap. When you're writing crap, it's hard to motivate yourself to keep at it. I persevered, but when I finally finished the chapter, some of the reactions seemed out of character, so I had to go back in and edit the hell out of it. I hope what's left doesn't suck. (If it does, please tell me so I can fix it.)

Warning: Language

_

* * *

_

_Previously…_

_"Ames White and his Familiars have killed our people. They've still got one of our own. Hell, they'll wipe us all out with if we give them have a chance, and we know for a fact that they're already trying. It's time we stop playing around and finish this. I say we go in there and take those mothers out.…"_

_"They want a war? We'll give 'em one."_

* * *

Chapter 10: The Edge of Armageddon

There was nothing but silence for the space of several heartbeats. Then, as if someone flipped a switch, the room erupted in overlapping voices, a hodgepodge of rapid-fire questions and suggestions. It bordered on chaos.

That wouldn't do.

Vash stuck two fingers in her mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle. That shut them up real quick. Heads turned in her direction, a hint of shock on each face. The doctor narrowed her eyes at them.

"This is a hospital, not a meeting hall," she said pointedly, with a nod toward the door.

"Right," Mole said. He was still in command mode, even though, technically, he should've deferred to Max or Alec. Both of them had been out of commission for a while, though, so taking charge had become something of a habit. "We take this over to Command. We need to get more people involved, come up with a battle plan. Get this ball rolling."

They moved en masse over to Command. They didn't waste time, moving with grim purpose. The decision had been made, and there was no turning back. It was time to plan a war.

Max and Alec lagged behind. The tension between them was electric, crackling in the silence like a live wire. They both felt it. They stood there, staring at each other, not knowing what to say or even if there was anything left to say. Finally, Max couldn't take it anymore; she turned without a word to head to Command. Alec followed without comment.

She thought that he was going to let it drop. She should've known better.

Nervous energy radiated off of him, generating a field that threatened to suck her in. He wanted to say something, seemed about ready to explode if he didn't say something, but he held it in. She supposed it should bother her that he was holding back, but all she could feel was relief. She didn't want to deal with it—with anything. She was numb, and she wanted to stay numb until this whole thing was over and done. But Alec, the former king of emotional lockdown himself, wasn't down with her plan.

When they were a block away from Medical, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into an alley.

"How could you do that to me?" he hissed angrily, backing her against the wall. "How could you let me think they killed the baby?"

"I never said that."

"Semantics, Max. You _knew_ what I would think, and you purposely let me go on thinking it." How could she do that to him? Didn't she know how that would make him feel? Didn't she know him at all? "There could still be a chance. A _chance_, Max, and you don't tell me? How could you not tell me that?"

He'd never felt so hurt in his life. Not when Max was ready to leave him in jail because she thought he was a killer. Not when she had taken Logan's hand at TC's flag raising. Not when he'd thought Max had run off to Logan's place before he'd gone to look for the cure. Even getting shot by tranquilizer darts on _her_ orders paled in comparison.

This wasn't like forgetting to mention that you'd snuck out of TC the night before, or that you conned $800 bucks out of a couple of idiots at the pool tables, or that you almost got arrested on the way back and had to sweet-talk the semi-hot sector cop into letting you off with a warning. This was life and death.

Their _child's_ life. Their _child's_ death.

Max yanked her arm out of his grasp, feeling defensive and a bit angry herself. "It's complicated."

"Complicated, my ass. You didn't tell me because you thought I'd go off half-cocked…"

"You _did_ go off half-cocked!"

Damn her. It was hard to be morally righteous when she had a point. He turned his back on her, staring at his reflection in a shard of a broken alley window, barely more than a shadow in the darkness. "I had a right to know, Max."

"Had a right to know what? The truth? That the child you didn't even know you had was being dissected and slapped under a microscope? Because that's the truth, Alec. You can deny it all you want, but you don't know that bitch doctor like I do."

She saw his reflection crumple in anguish, and it made her wish she hadn't said it, but he had to face facts. She couldn't bear to see him get his hopes up just to have them crushed. She moved beside him. "You see that?" she asked, reaching out to brush her fingertips over the reflection of his cheek. "I've seen that look staring back at me every time I look in the mirror. Excuse me if I didn't want you to have to share it."

Alec felt his anger slipping, but he refused to let it go. If he let it go, he would sink down into grief, and he couldn't allow that. He hadn't given up on Max, and he wouldn't give up on their baby, no matter what Max believed. Not until he knew for sure.

The anger boiled up inside of him until it exploded. He smashed his fist into the remains of the window, sending glass tinkling to the ground like falling snow. Head bowed, he crushed the shards under his boot, as if he could crush the pain with it.

"I'm sick and tired of you protecting me," he said evenly, trying to find the calm, the disconnect, that had always been so easy for him. Not so easy anymore.

"Sorry. Next time I'll be sure not to give a damn," Max said. He didn't see it her way, and he wasn't going to see it her way, so there was no point in talking about it. She turned to walk away.

Alec laughed bitterly. "Why do you always have to be a bitch?"

She stopped and spun on him, her voice echoing through the alley. "Because it's all I've got right now!"

"No!" Alec shouted, closing the distance between them in a flash. He grabbed her and gave her a shake, forgetting her injuries in the heat of the moment. "You've got _me_, if you'd stop being so scared to let yourself lean on me once in a while. But that's the problem, isn't it? You just can't bring yourself to trust me, can you?"

"Alec…," Max began, but she didn't know what to say. It had suddenly become about more than the baby. More than the truths she hadn't told. He'd exposed the root of everything that had ever been wrong between them, the one he'd been digging up for months only to have her bury it again and again.

Trust.

Alec felt the pair of rings against his chest, colder and heavier than ever. They had come to a fork in the road. He'd chosen his path, but he couldn't move forward because she was standing still. She'd been willing to come this far with him, but no farther. He couldn't spend the rest of his life waiting around for her to make up her mind.

He let her go and backed away, his heart pounding in his chest. One wrong word might push her away for good. It scared the hell out of him, but he couldn't keep living in limbo.

"Sooner or later, Maxie," he said quietly, his words somehow more powerful for their softness, "you're going to have to make a choice."

She blinked, and he was gone, blurring away toward the Command building.

Away from her.

* * *

She stood there, alone in the dark, shocked and angry and hurt that he'd drawn a line in the sand. He had to pull this now? After everything she'd been through? She was trying to deal the best way she knew how. All she wanted from him was a little time and space. Why didn't he get that?

But he _did_ get it, and that was the problem. Alec understood her better than anyone—even better than Original Cindy, who'd known her a lot longer. Like it or not, Alec got her… _all_ of her, the good and the bad. No matter how much she tried to hide it, he knew how fragile and vulnerable she felt after what had been done to her. Just like he knew she would rather crash and burn standing on her own two feet than admit that she couldn't handle this on her own.

A small part of her hated him for that.

As the cold wind cooled her blood and cleared the fog of anger clouding her head, guilt began to creep in. She hadn't been the only one hurt by what had happened. It had been Alec's child, too.

She had wanted to deal with it in her own way and on her own terms, but by doing so she'd forced Alec to deal with it on his own. Max knew from past experience (mainly, the whole Rachel Berrisford thing) that Alec wasn't very good at dealing with heavy emotional stuff on his own. Alec dealing on his own equaled a reckless and self-destructive Alec—then _and_ now. If she hadn't given orders to stop him from leaving Terminal City…

She would have lost him. The Familiars would've killed him, and it would've been her fault, because she hadn't been there for him when he needed her. Alec had needed to lean on her as much as he'd needed her to lean on him, and she'd left him twisting in the wind.

"Damn it," she sighed.

She took off running, wondering how the hell she was ever going to fix things between them when she couldn't even fix herself.

* * *

Max walked into a meeting that was already in full swing. She wouldn't have been so late if she hadn't had to stop to catch her breath. She'd almost passed out after her body had given up on her a few steps away from the Command building. She'd covered well enough to get in the door without everyone fussing over her, but she'd had to find an empty room and sit for a while to learn how to breathe normally again. She probably still looked like shit, but she didn't want Alec to think that she didn't want to be involved. Even if she didn't think there was a snowball's chance that the baby was still alive, no way was she going to miss out on kicking Familiar ass.

The room was packed. Someone must've sent a runner to round up the VIPs, because the entire council plus quite a few others were packed in like sardines. A map was laid out on the conference table, everyone leaning around it with looks of heavy concentration on their faces. War was serious business. Three quarters of the people standing around the table had personal experience with that fact. Life and death experience.

Everyone looked up when she came in—everyone except Alec. A slight hitch in his voice was the only sign that he noticed her arrival. He kept talking, pointing out positions on the map and deliberately refusing to look at her, though Max could tell that it took him some effort.

She must've looked worse than she thought, because she found quite a few people staring at her, like she was a human train wreck or something. Joshua's brow furrowed with concern, and he was about to take a step toward her when she waved him off with a short shake of her head. She didn't want to make more of a scene than she already had.

She ignored the others' looks and moved to the table, purposely taking a spot directly across from Alec. Even if she didn't know what to do about the mess between them, she wanted him to know that she was making an effort. That she wasn't going to give up. They'd work it out… somehow.

It wasn't long until everyone's focus returned to the map. Max closed her eyes and breathed a silent sigh of relief. She leaned against the table, thankful that everyone would be too distracted to notice that it was probably the only thing keeping her vertical at the moment.

Joshua took over, reporting on the patrol patterns he and Alec had noted on their mission to rescue Max. While he was talking, Alec risked a glance in Max's direction, but found himself locking on. He felt a pang in his chest when he saw that Max didn't so much lean as sag against the table. God, she looked awful—all pale and clammy and way worse than she had an hour ago.

Had he done that?

Max opened her eyes and caught him staring at her. She immediately forced herself to straighten, and he could almost hear her voice in his head, though she didn't say a word. _See? I'm good. Nothing to worry about here. _

Alec chewed on his bottom lip. This was his fault. He shouldn't have pushed. He shouldn't have called her out like that. Why couldn't he have just waited until they were clear of this mess instead of piling their relationship issues on top of everything else? He was a stupid, selfish idiot, and if she told him told him to drop dead, it would be no more than he deserved.

_Are you okay?_ Alec mouthed silently. He knew Max wouldn't want him to advertise the fact that she wasn't 100% (even though everyone probably already knew it). He'd already done enough damage for one day.

Max being Max and the Queen of Grudges, Alec figured she would either ignore him or give him a cold stare. So when, after a beat, she simply nodded, it came as a complete shock. His brain was so busy trying to figure out whether he should take it at face value or prepare for a subsequent ass kicking that he didn't realize Joshua had stopped talking. Max rolled her eyes at him and mouthed, _Pay attention, stupid. _

A second later, Alec let out a grunt as a green, scaly elbow jabbed him hard in the ribs. "Hey," Mole growled. "You planning to join the conversation?"

"Oh, uh…" Alec stammered. "Right." He forced himself to look back down at the map and focus on the problem at hand. Planning an all-out assault on a secret organization that was trying to wipe you and yours off the face of the planet took priority over relationship issues.

For now, anyway.

"So…" Alec said. He cleared his throat and straightened, slipping back into combat leader mode. "The National Weather Service is forecasting another storm. It'll make travel dicey, but we can use the storm to our advantage. We need all the extra coverage we can get."

"Assuming the forecast is right, for once," Dix muttered.

"We'll worry about that when the time comes," Alec countered. "Everyone agrees on a three-pronged attack. Teams will be codenamed Larry, Curly, and Moe." Wil snickered at Alec's choice of codenames, but the SIC silenced him with a glance. "Larry will hit the front, Curly and Moe will assault from the rear coming in on separate vectors. Larry's mission is information retrieval—find anything and everything on that killer drug. Computer files, samples, you name it. Curly will handle demolition. When this is over, there won't be a piece of that place bigger than a matchstick."

"And Moe?" Mole asked, though he suspected he knew the answer.

Alec's face became stone. "Moe's retribution."

"Who's leading the teams?" Gem asked, eyes focused on the map. She'd had to take in a lot over the last half hour. She had to force herself to push past the emotions she felt, as a mother, for what Max and Alec had lost.

"Dix will lead Larry, Mole will take Curly, and I'll take Moe. Team leaders will hand-pick their unit—volunteers only. This isn't Manticore. Make sure everyone is aware the casualty risk is high."

"What about Shemp?" Max asked. Thanks to Alec's love of the Stooges, she'd gained a reluctant fondness for the screwball comedians. It was something they had shared together, and they both could use a reminder of that right now.

Some of the tension around Alec's eyes eased. "Shemp's the cavalry. We call it in only if absolutely necessary."

"Only if we're FUBAR," Joshua translated. Aside from the Terminal City siege, he'd never been in a true battle—never headed into a fight knowing that someone he knew wasn't going to come back. He'd spent his time at Manticore locked up in a basement and had been spared the harsh realities of combat. It wasn't that he hadn't seen friends die—he had. Death was no stranger. But he'd never seen someone go out and walk into its teeth. It was a new experience for him.

Alec smiled crookedly at Josh's comment, but it was a nervous smile. "We won't let that happen, Big Fella."

Max was about to ask who was leading Shemp—she didn't realize the others had already covered the issue of the backup team—when Zev cut her off.

"Hold up. I didn't hear my name mentioned anywhere in there."

"Yeah," Wil said, straightening, eyes widening as he realized it. "Neither did I."

Alec straightened and squared his shoulders, preparing for a fight. "That's because the two of you are staying here."

"Now wait just a damn minute…" Wil said hotly, while Zev simultaneously said, "No fucking way."

"Someone's got to run Terminal City while we're gone. You guys are the best candidates for the job."

"What about Mole?" Wil shot back. "He's 3IC. He should be left in charge."

"Mole's better with explosives than anyone in this place, and you both know it. We need him on mission. That leaves you, Wil."

"That doesn't explain why _I_ have to stay," Zev complained.

Alec was about to answer, but Max beat him to it. She was still CO of Terminal City; it was time she started acting like it. "Because, Zev, your face is as well known outside these walls as mine. The uniforms don't see you on the border, they'll know for sure something's up."

The redhead frowned. "I don't think one day would make a difference."

"I don't care what you think. You and Wil are staying. And so you two will shut the hell up and accept it so we can move on, I'm making it an order. Clear?" Max said sharply, feeling more like herself than she had in days.

"_Crystal_," Zev said icily. Wil just nodded, grumpily silent.

"And she's back," Mole commented, chewing happily on his cigar. He'd never admit it, but he'd missed bitchy, badass Max. He'd felt a little lost without her.

* * *

They hashed and re-hashed the plan, going over every possible angle and then a few more that weren't so possible. All that was left to do now was execute.

"All right, people," Alec interrupted before Max and Mole started butting heads. He had enough experience to feel it coming. "You know your assignments. Recruit your teams, get some sleep. We'll meet back here at 2100 for a final run through. Move out."

People scattered in every direction, hustling to get done what needed to be done. Max didn't move, because she was afraid her body would decide to up and quit and she'd end up in a heap on the floor. She felt shaky, like she had back in the early days when they were stuck in TC with not enough to eat and way too much to do. She wished she'd made herself eat more than the small amount she'd managed earlier, even though she hadn't been that hungry. She had to get out of this funk she was in and take care of herself if she wanted to take care of business with the Familiars.

When Max glanced back over toward Alec, she saw that he had pulled Joshua aside and was whispering something to him, but thanks to all the commotion, she couldn't hear what it was. Then they both looked in her direction with worried looks on their faces, so she could pretty much figure out the topic of conversation.

Dammit. Alec was coming her way. She didn't want to fight, and, more importantly, she didn't think she was _up_ for another fight, but she was afraid she wasn't going to have a choice in the matter. She knew what he was thinking, and she wasn't going to let him keep her from going on this mission. No way, no how.

He stopped a few feet in front of her, as if he was wary of getting too close. His eyes darted over her, and she couldn't help but feel like he was judging her. If she were any other transgenic, about to go into battle against a well-armed and well-trained enemy, she would've considered Alec's once-over completely justified; if she wasn't up to par, she would be a danger to herself and to others. But this was _Alec_. She couldn't stand being treated like anyone else…not by him.

"Max…"

"I'm fine," she said sharply, cutting him off before he said something she didn't want to hear.

"You're tired," he said gently, ignoring her defensiveness. He needed to get his point across without getting her riled up—not exactly a simple task. "You need rest."

"_I_ need rest? Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?" She knew how she sounded, but she didn't care. She wouldn't put it past him to sedate her like he had Dalton so that he could keep her out of the line of fire, and she knew that she would never forgive him if he did.

"I wasn't the one who was tortured and starved for days on end."

"_Exactly_. I deserve a little payback."

Alec shook his head. "You've never been about revenge, Max."

"People change," she said coldly.

"Really. Then I guess you'll have no problem using this." Alec pulled his 9mm from the small of his back and set it on the table next to them. He slowly slid it toward her.

Max stiffened as she stared down at the gun—the cold, hard metal that she'd run from her whole life. Could she take it? Take a life? The truth was, she hadn't thought that far ahead. Her hatred had become a living thing inside of her, replacing the child she had lost, quietly but persistently clamoring for vengeance. She had never really visualized the form that vengeance would take… or how close it would bring her to everything she'd grown up to hate.

Alec let go of the breath he had been holding as he saw the turmoil in Max's eyes. He wasn't sure what he would've done if she had taken the gun. He took it back and slid it into his waistband, watching Max's eyes follow the gun until it disappeared from view. It was a dirty trick, but necessary, though she probably wouldn't agree.

The look in her eyes when she finally looked up at him said that she definitely did not agree.

"I'm sorry. I know how you feel about guns, but…" He sighed. "This is how it has to be, Max. We're not going to tie them to a pole and wait for the cops to scoop them up this time. We're _ending_ this. To do that, we're going to have to become the weapons we were made to be."

Alec turned and sat down on the edge of the table, feeling the weight of his own words. He'd been so ready to rush headlong at White, even _he_ hadn't realized all that was at stake. "You need to understand where this is headed. I've been down this road before... too many times," he added, closing his eyes momentarily as faces floated up from his memory, all long gone because of him. "Trust me. You don't want to go there if you don't have to."

Max sat down on the table beside him. She gave him a soft shoulder bump. "I'm a part of this, Alec. You can't shelter me from it."

He laughed, short and sharp. "This from the girl who wouldn't let me leave Terminal City for six months."

Her lips quirked. "I didn't say I wasn't a hypocrite."

Alec's expression sobered. "This isn't going to be easy, Max."

Max straightened, ignoring the way it pulled at the still-healing scars. "I'm ready."

"No you're not," he challenged. Now that he'd calmed down, he was actually happy to be arguing with Max. Anything was better than the emotional zombie she'd been since she'd been back. He reached up to tug at a lock of her hair. "An Ordinary could kick your ass right now." She was about to protest again, but he silenced her by placing a finger lightly over her lips. The fact that she didn't sink her teeth into it proved to him how off kilter she still was.

"You're no good to us if you can't stand on your own two feet, Maxie," he said. "All I'm saying is that you should get some food into you and get some sleep if you're planning to slog through the woods in the middle of a snowstorm. Okay?"

Max drew back her head and looked into those hazel-green eyes of his, trying to figure out if he was telling her the truth or just what she wanted to hear. "You're not going to try to stop me?" she asked, suspicious.

Alec's smile faltered a little, and Max could see the worry creep back into his eyes. "No, I won't stop you," he said. After a moment, the smile was back, apologetic this time. "But I can't promise that in a weak moment I won't still try to talk you out of it."

"Fair enough."

"Good." Alec nodded, glad that they'd at least settled something between them. "Now go home and eat something before you fall over. Josh'll keep you company until you fall asleep."

Max was about to say that she didn't need any help, but Joshua came over to stand beside Alec, looking so eager that she couldn't say no… which was exactly what Alec had planned—the sneak.

"Nice play," she said appreciatively.

"I thought so."

Neither of them knew what to say next, and the silence dragged out until it became awkward, especially since Josh was patiently standing there, waiting to escort her back to the apartment. Max looked down at her feet as she thought of the fight they'd had in the alley.

"Look. About earlier…" she began, not really sure what she was going to say, but hoping that her normally talkative boyfriend would help her out.

"Yeah?" was his one-word answer. Some help he was_._

Max sighed and made herself look up at him, even though her cheeks flushed. "I … I never meant to… I mean… It's not that I don't trust you, but… talking about this is…" Max said, false starting several times. She heaved a frustrated sigh and pushed her hair away from her face. "Dammit, I'm screwing this up."

"Yo, Alec!" a loud voice bellowed from the doorway, interrupting her—Mole. He popped his scaly head back into the room. "We need to get cracking ASAP, or we _will_ be FUBAR."

Alec closed his eyes and ground his teeth. Damn Mole and his bad timing.

"Come on, man! Let's go!"

"Hang on a minute!" Alec yelled over his shoulder, then turned back to Max. "Max…" he said anxiously, afraid that they might lose this chance if he left.

Max sighed, feeling a little bit guilty that she was grateful Mole had gotten her off the hook. She reached out and squeezed Alec's hand. "You should go. We'll talk later."

"But…"

"Go. You've got important stuff to do, and, to be perfectly honest, it'll give me more time to figure out what I want to say. Besides, _I've_ got important stuff to do, too… like taking a nice long nap after I eat a triple-decker sandwich."

Alec smiled, glad that she wasn't going to fight him on this. "Wanna trade?"

Max shook her head. "Not on your life. Now go," she said, giving him a gentle shove. "Joshua and I have a date."

She held her arm out to her big friend, who took it graciously and, with a nod to Alec, began to lead her from the room.

"Any day now, McDowell!" Mole yelled from the hallway.

"I'm coming, you scaly sonofabitch!" Alec growled back, feeling better than he had in days. Sure, he was tired, and he was hungry—a triple-decker sandwich sounded pretty good right about now—but things were finally looking up. They were going to take some action against the Familiars, and Max was at least _trying_ to talk to him.

Life wasn't good, but it didn't suck as much as it had an hour ago. Considering what had happened over the past couple of days, he'd take what he could get.

* * *

"Something's going on."

"Obviously," Dalton said, agreeing with Oscar's simple but accurate assessment of the situation. "But what?" he added.

The two of them were standing off to the side in Command, out of the main path of traffic. And there was a hell of a lot of traffic. People were coming and going with a look of purpose on their faces that neither of them had seen since the siege. The funny thing was, no one was saying much. They caught a snippet of conversation here and there, but not enough to figure out what was going on.

Kazi entered through the door on the other side of the room, her eyes immediately scanning for them. Dalton waved her over, and she closed the distance quickly, dodging through the crowd to reach them.

"You find out anything?" Dalton asked her.

The girl shook her head. "No one's talking. Every time I got close to someone who looked like they might know something, they clammed up. Whatever it is, seems like they're pretty much keeping Sixes and up out of the loop."

Oscar's brow furrowed; he looked worried. "Do you think they're expecting an attack?"

Dalton shook his head. "Can't be. They wouldn't keep us out if it was that. They'd need everyone to help defend TC."

"Well, what then?" Kazi asked.

Just then, Alec and Mole surged into the room; people got out of their way. As the Second and Third in Command were passing, the X6s overheard Alec mutter a one-word command: "Weapons."

"On it," Mole replied and split off in a different direction, toward the Armory. He was almost out the door when he yelled, "Kazi! With me!"

Kazi shared a wide-eyed look with the boys before she took off running after Mole. This was their chance to figure out what was going on.

Oscar watched Dalton watch Alec as the X5 passed. His friend remained stubbornly silent, eyes boring holes into Alec's back. "Why don't you just ask him what's going on?" Oscar asked.

Dalton looked away, irritated that he'd been caught. "Because I'm still pissed at him," he insisted stubbornly. He'd almost been ready to forgive Alec. He'd _wanted_ to forgive Alec. All it would've taken was one little act of faith—something to prove that Alec trusted him, believed in him.

Obviously, that wasn't the case.

Oscar frowned at him. "You know you're being stupid, right?"

"Shut up, Oscar."

* * *

Dr. Gaines barged into Ames White's office without bothering to knock. "Where are my specimens?" she demanded, bristling.

She was tired of the excuses and the delays. Men like Ames didn't understand the delicacies of her work. He thought she could just put everything on hold…never mind cell degradation and the hundred other factors that came into play.

"Liz," White said casually, never taking his eyes from his computer screen, his fingers still flying over the keyboard. "Nice to see you."

"Don't play games with me, Ames. You promised me you'd provide new transgenic specimens for my experiments. Without new material, I'm at a standstill, and you know it. The Conclave…"

"I'm working on it," White said, his words slicing through her rant.

The doctor's eyes narrowed. "I'll only wait for so long."

Ames looked up, raising an eyebrow at the threat. "You'll wait as long as I'll tell you, Doctor," he said dispassionately. "Don't forget who's in charge around here."

Dr. Gaines turned on her heel and walked stiffly out of the room, seething. She burst through the door to her lab, still mentally cursing the man in her head. Her eyes fell on the glowing chamber that still rest, undisturbed, on the counter.

Ames had refused to let her use 452's fetus in her experiments. He seemed to think that they could still use the creature as some sort of bargaining chip. You didn't bargain with a bunch of dangerous animals; you exterminated them. Which was exactly what she was trying to do, if he would only let her use the genetic material right under her fingertips. But he wouldn't, because _Ames White_ _was the one in charge around here_.

"We'll see about that," she muttered to the empty room. Then she picked up the phone.

* * *

Dalton and Oscar sat on the edge of the catwalk, feet dangling off the side as they watched the commotion below, identical scowls on their faces. The X6s strained their ears, trying to differentiate the many voices that made up the din. They still didn't know the exact details of what was going on, but whatever it was, it was a major deal.

Dalton's eyes tracked Alec around the room; if there was a heart to this storm, the SIC was it. Alec was the answer. The _key_. Dalton was sure of it.

The blonde X6 straightened, eyes widening as it hit him. Why hadn't he thought of it before? It was obvious. "He's going after White."

"Come on, that can't be it," Oscar said dismissively. "He already tried that, and it failed. Max ordered it herself—standing orders for Border Patrol to stop him at all costs. Old news, Dalton."

Dalton turned and grabbed Oscar by the arm, squeezing too tight in his intensity and causing the other boy to wince. "No," Dalton said, shaking his head. "I mean they're _all_ going after White. An all out assault. Us against them."

Oscar's eyes widened. "No way."

"I'm telling you, Oscar, it's _war_."

The pair of them looked back down at the buzzing hive below. Each face had a look of intensity that neither of them had seen since their Manticore days.

"Shit," Oscar whispered, blood draining from his face.

"Come on," Dalton whispered harshly, scrambling to his feet and dragging Oscar with him. "We've got to talk to Kazi."

* * *

Max cursed softly as her cell phone beeped at her for the third time.

"Little Fella?" Joshua asked, worried, as he poked his head in the bedroom door. Once he saw that Max was sitting on the bed and not collapsed on the floor or something equally dire, he relaxed a little. The frown on her face was still cause for concern, though. "Thought you were going to sleep?" he asked, moving further into the room.

Max looked up, a little shocked that she found herself blinking rapidly to chase away the tears. "Stupid phone," she said with a sniff. "Can't seem to get a signal."

Joshua sat down next to her on the bed. "Jammers are on. Dix is keeping them running until after the mission."

Max forced a laugh. "Right. I should've thought of that." She reached up to brush away a tear. "I don't know why I'm so upset. Just one more thing to add to the list of what's wrong with Max, huh?"

"Having emotions isn't wrong. We're going to war. Should worry if you _weren't_ upset."

"Funny. You would've thought Manticore would've tried harder get rid of that design flaw." Max frowned at the phone in her hand. She knew now it wouldn't work no matter what she did, but she had a hard time putting it down.

"Max was going to call Original Cindy," Joshua offered.

"Yeah," Max sighed. "With everything that's going on, I wanted to… I don't know, say goodbye, I guess. You know… just in case."

Joshua turned Max to face him, resting his large hands on her shoulders. "_No_ in case. Little Fella will make it back."

"You can't know that."

"Can too. Joshua will make sure of it."

"Josh, you can't watch over me during the…" Max stopped as it dawned on her. "Wait. Alec assigned you to be my personal body guard, didn't he?"

Joshua shrugged his answer. "Alec loves you very much."

"I know."

Normally, she would've been pissed off by such high-handedness from Alec, but all she felt was a sense of relief. Alec knew she wouldn't be 100% at Go Time, and he knew he couldn't stop her, so he was taking care of her as best he could.

She gave Joshua a crooked half-smile. "I guess it's time I got a taste of my own medicine, huh?"

Joshua nodded solemnly. "That's what Alec said."

Max laughed, but it died quickly. The reality of what they were about to do was too life-and-death for levity. "I'm really worried about him, Josh. This thing with me and with…" She swallowed hard. "…with the baby. It's really messed him up. If he spots White… I'm afraid of what he might do."

Joshua turned his face away from Max. He didn't want her to see how angry the thought of what had been done to her made him.

"Don't worry, Little Fella." He took Max's cell from her hands and gently set it on the table. He motioned her under the covers, and tucked her in once she complied. Every move was slow and deliberate, to soothe himself as much as Max. He planted a soft kiss on her hair, then turned to switch off the small lamp on the bedside table.

He couldn't condemn Alec for what he might do. He was afraid of what he might do himself if he spotted White. He looked down at Max, so small and fragile under the blankets. "Alec can take care of himself."

Max's eyes began to droop. As he moved toward the door, he heard Max's sleepy slur, "Not gon' stop me from wantin' to take care of 'im…"

Joshua paused and turned back toward Max. "Guess we will have to keep an eye on him, too."

"Mmmm…" Max murmured and rolled onto her side, satisfied as she drifted off into sleep.

Joshua slipped out of the room and closed the door, leaving it cracked slightly so he could better detect minute changes in Max's breathing. He still worried about her health. She really was in no shape to go on this mission, but Joshua understood why she had to go.

He sank down onto the couch, leaning forward until his head was in his hands. In a couple of hours, Max, Alec… so many of his friends would be at risk. How could he possibly protect them all?

* * *

"I'm not supposed to say anything."

Dalton and Oscar walked on either side of Kazi as she made her way back to the barracks, effectively corralling her between them. "Come on, Kazi," Dalton pressured. "Spill." She'd been locked in the armory with Mole for over an hour; she had to know something.

Kazi shook her head and kept walking. "Mole'll tear me a new one if I tell you."

"He doesn't have to know you told us," Oscar offered. "We can tell him Dalton was eavesdropping from the air ducts."

"Hey!" Dalton protested.

"What?" Oscar said with wide-eyed innocence. "He'd buy it."

Kazi slowed, her resolve wavering. "You're probably right about that."

Dalton threw up his hands. "Fine. Sell me out. I don't give a damn if it gets you to tell us what's going on."

Kazi looked around nervously. There were too many people around. "I'll tell you, but not here."

* * *

Wil and Zev were in the gym. They'd been there for over an hour, sparring. They probably should've been in Command, but honestly, there was nothing left for them to do. They'd already come up with contingency plans everything they might run into while the others were away on mission, up to and including natural disaster and alien invasion. The only thing they could've done was sit around and watch everyone else prepare to risk their lives, which really didn't sit well with either of them, especially Zev. She'd dragged Wil off to the gym to burn off some steam.

"This sucks," Zev said, then launched another spin kick at Wil's head.

If Wil had been a bit more smart-assed like Alec or a bit more laconic like Mole, he would've had some sort of snappy comeback. Wil being Wil, though, he just said, "I know," just like he had the other ten times she'd said it, and blocked her kick.

"Not only do they make us stay, but they're completely ignoring Max Law number... number…"

"Thirteen."

"Whatever!" Zev snapped. She blocked Wil's counter-move, then backed away to formulate a new plan of attack. "We've been in this from the beginning. We've got a right to be there!"

Wil circled, watching for her next move. "Preaching to the choir, Zev."

Zev made a frustrated noise and stalked away from him, grabbing a towel to wipe away the sweat. She whipped it angrily to the ground. "How can you be so laid back about this?"

Figuring they were taking a break, Wil bent down and grabbed a bottle of water, twisting off the cap and taking a large gulp. He held up another and brandished at Zev before tossing it to her. "I could get all worked up about it, but it wouldn't make a difference, would it? I'd still be stuck here, same as you."

"That's not the point. Aren't you angry?"

Wil shrugged. "I've never been able to stay mad for very long."

Zev narrowed her eyes at him. Wil was so different from most other transgenic guys. "That's very sensible."

"Thank you," he said, smiling at her.

Zev pursed her lips at him. "And annoying."

The smile died. "Okay, I take that back."

He'd let her get to him, like he always did, so he didn't see it coming. She launched herself at him, and he wasn't ready. She got in a few blows and then took him down with a sweeping leg kick. He tried to roll away, but she jumped on his back and grabbed his arm, yanking it up and pinning him to the mat.

Breathing hard while straddling him, Zev felt her temperature rise… and it wasn't from sparring. "I like you, Wil."

"Coulda fooled me," Wil grunted into the mat.

She leaned down until her breasts brushed against his back and her lips were over his ear. She felt his breath catch, and she smiled. "When this is all over," she murmured into his ear, "give me a couple of hours and I'll prove it." She nipped his ear with her teeth, then rolled off him and to her feet. "I'm hitting the showers," she called over her shoulder, as if she hadn't just made a completely obvious pass at him.

Wil rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. His put his hand over heart and felt it pounding hard against his ribs.

That woman was going to be the death of him.

* * *

They sat in a circle on the floor of Dalton's room, behind the closed door. He was the only X6 with a room of his own—one of the perks of being Alec's assistant. Dalton had hoped he would be using that perk to get up close and personal (or more specifically, horizontal) with Kazi. Funny how things worked out.

Kazi confirmed what Dalton and Oscar had surmised from hanging out in Command—it was war. The transgenics were mounting the largest mass assault since their Manticore days. There were at least fifty on the assault team, which equaled a small army of ordinaries. They weren't kidding around.

"It wasn't just the standard assault rifles and handguns," Kazi said, keeping her voice down even though Dalton had music blasting to drown out their conversation. "We're talking big guns and explosives. I don't think they're just planning to attack them. I think they're planning to wipe them out."

"Told you," Dalton said, giving Oscar's shoulder a punch.

The other boy rubbed his shoulder and frowned. "You act like this is a good thing."

"How can it not be?" Dalton retorted. "We're finally standing up to the Familiars."

"About time, too," Kazi added, nodding.

Oscar looked from one to the other. How could they be so excited? Didn't they remember how it had been? _He_ sure remembered, no matter how hard he tried to forget.

"There's something else," Kazi said, and the hesitation in her voice caught both boys attention. She looked down, suddenly uncomfortable. She wasn't sure she should tell them this part—especially Dalton—but if he found out she'd held back on him, he'd be mad at her. She didn't want him to be mad at her again. She cleared her throat and continued.

"I was in the armory, helping pack up stuff for the mission. Mole had gone to talk to Alec about something. I was in the back, looking for another case of smoke grenades, when Gem and Luke came in. They didn't know I was there. I … heard them talking." Kazi hesitated, sending a nervous glance at Dalton.

"What?" he said.

"You're not going to like it."

"Will you just tell me already?!"

"It's about what happened to Max." She swallowed hard. "When the Familiars had her."

* * *

She was sure that Dalton had heard her, but you wouldn't have known it to look at him. He sat unmoving, staring off into space, barely even breathing. Maybe he was in shock.

"Dalton?" she said softly, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

She jumped when he suddenly surged to his feet, eyes flashing with anger and purpose.

"I'm going with them."

"Are you crazy?!" Oscar exclaimed. "No way Alec will ever agree to that."

"I'm not planning on giving him much choice."

Kazi got to her feet to stand beside Dalton. "If you're going, then I'm going, too."

Oscar looked up at the two of them. They were going to do it. They were actually going to do it. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling that familiar pressure that he hadn't felt in a long time—not since he'd been a number. "This is insane."

He didn't want to go. He was happy being just a kid—genetically enhanced kid, but still, just a kid. He didn't want to be a soldier again, but what choice did he have? He couldn't sit at home and twiddle his thumbs while his best friend was out there risking his life. If someone happened, he'd never forgive himself.

Oscar got to his feet, reluctantly resigned. "Count me in." When Dalton raised his eyebrows in surprise, Oscar shrugged. "Someone has to keep you two out of trouble."

* * *

Max shuffled out of the bedroom with a stretch and a yawn, feeling a lot better than she had earlier. Alec had been right; she'd needed the rest… and the triple-decker sandwich. Still a little fuzzy from the long nap, she shambled toward the living room, eyes drifting over to the couch where Joshua had been planning to sack out while she slept.

It was empty.

"I sent him home," a familiar voice said softly from the shadows. Max turned to find Alec standing there in the dark, dimly silhouetted as he stood with his back against the window. He stared down at the glass tumbler in his hand. He lifted it to take a drink; Max could smell the scent of Alec's favorite scotch waft through the room.

There was no need to scold; he couldn't get drunk if he tried. It was more of a comfort thing with Alec. The near-empty bottle on the windowsill told her he'd sought a lot of comfort while she'd slept. He set the glass down on the ledge, and she thought she detected a slight tremor in his hand. He took a shaky breath.

"I would ask you to stay, but I know you're not going to."

He was scared. He'd already come so close to losing her. He couldn't go through that again. He wanted to tuck her away where nothing could ever hurt her, but he knew he couldn't, and it was driving him crazy.

Was this the way Max had felt after he'd been shot?

Max closed the distance between them. She put her hand over his heart, its pounding betraying the inner turmoil beneath his outer calm. "I have to go, Alec" she said, almost apologetically.

Alec's lips attempted a smile but couldn't quite pull it off, instead twisting in a sickened parody of one. He put his hand over hers, holding her to him. "I wish you wouldn't," he asked, knowing it wouldn't do any good.

He'd gone over the reasons she should stay a hundred times in his head, waiting for her to wake up from her nap. It was too soon. Her wounds were still too fresh, and not just the physical. She knew it as much as he did. Most of all, he didn't want her to go back there. He would rather burn the whole building down then ever have her step foot in that place again.

Max reached up with her other hand and placed it on his cheek. She was momentarily distracted by the feel of the scruff beneath her hand, so unlike him. This whole thing had taken both of them so far from who they'd been. She leaned her forehead against his and whispered, "I need to do this. You know I do."

He closed his eyes and nodded, afraid to trust his voice. He'd known she wouldn't stay; she wouldn't be Max if she did. But he'd had to try.

He felt the touch of soft lips on his, and then he couldn't have spoken even if he'd wanted. His throat constricted as those lips traced a path along his jaw toward and her arms wrapped around him.

"I know things are screwed up between us right now," she murmured into his hair, pulling him tighter, "and I know a lot of that has to do with me, but… I want you to know I'm trying. It may not seem like it, 'cause this is _really_ hard for me, dealing with everything that happened. But I _am_ trying. So if I keep trying to push you away, don't let me, okay?

"'Kay," he replied, the word muffled against her neck. It would've been so easy to forget to world and lose himself in her.

Max pulled back from him, and it took some effort, because he didn't want to let her go. She was okay with that. "I know I can count on you."

Alec's smile was muted; the coming events weighed too heavily on him. "Do me a favor?" he asked.

"Anything."

"Hang on to me for a while." He sounded so vulnerable that it made her heart ache.

Max stepped in closer and lowered her head to his chest, leaning into him. "I can do that."

* * *

It was time. The entire task force was gathered in front of the South tunnel entrance, ready to go to war. Ready to lay down their lives, if necessary, as so many of them had done in the past for a country that didn't want them. This time was different, and Max wanted to make sure each and every one of them understood that. They weren't being forced to go. Manticore was dead, and it was going to stay dead. If that meant that they ended up with only a handful of people to wage this war, then so be it.

Max moved to the front of the crowd. Alec stuck close by her, presenting a united front to the troops. A pair of lovers transformed into a pair of leaders. They had known from the beginning that it would be tough to be both; neither of them had realized how tough until the events of the past week.

"All right, people," Max raised her voice over the crowd. "Before we get down to business, I've got a few things to say."

Everyone immediately fell silent, many automatically snapping to attention. They understood the gravity of the situation.

"You all know why we're here. You all know what the Familiars did. To me. To Brand and Nila. Kai and Jin. Kel. Annie," she added, her eyes drifting to Joshua. "So many others we don't even know about." She didn't mention the baby. Only a select few knew about that, and she was planning to keep it that way.

She shook her head. "This isn't only about what they've done; it's about what they plan to do. The Familiars are developing a drug that could kill us all. If they succeed, we will all die. Slowly. Painfully." Max paused to let what she'd said sink in. "We will not let that happen."

Alec stepped forward. "You all get how important this mission is. We're facing superior numbers on enemy turf. I know a lot of you have been in this type of situation before, but you've never faced this type of enemy before. Familiars are not as fast as we are, but they're a lot stronger than an ordinary, and they don't feel pain. We can't afford to underestimate them."

"We're fighting for our future, people," Max added, "but we will not, under any circumstances, repeat our past. Manticore is dead, and it stays dead. No one's ordering you to risk your life. You want out, you're out—no questions. Anyone tries to hold it against you, I will personally kick their ass."

Max looked through the crowd. No one looked away. No one moved.

Joshua looked around, confirming everyone's reaction. He stepped forward and spoke for the group. "We're in this, Max. To the end."

Max nodded her thanks. She wished she didn't have to risk them like this—any of them, Alec included. But if they didn't do this, chances were that they wouldn't have a future.

"Enough with the warm fuzzies, already," Mole called out, his voice resounding in the silence. "Let's get moving, people."

* * *

The attack force moved down the tunnel toward the garage, toting weapons cases and their personal gear. Dix had sent on of his teams to arrange a convenient power outage, so they wouldn't have to worry about any sensors the military had in place. By the time the uniforms got together a patrol to check the tunnels, they'd be long gone.

Alec was moving down the tunnel at a steady clip, going over the plan in his head one more time. They couldn't afford to screw this up.

He was distracted by someone coming up in his peripheral vision—someone way shorter than he should have been. Alec glanced to the side.

Dalton. Oscar and Kazi were right behind him.

The X5 shot a disapproving look at Dalton, who he correctly assumed was the ringleader. "Where do you guys think you're going?"

"With you," Dalton said simply, as if he was stating fact.

Alec shook his head and kept walking. "Like Hell."

The X5 pulled ahead, and Dalton had to jog to keep up. Oscar and Kazi lagged behind, sensing that this fight was between Alec and Dalton.

"I won't get left behind again," the blonde X6 called out to Alec's back as they entered the Garage. Heads turned. Then Dalton was skidding to a halt as Alec suddenly stopped and turned on him, jabbing a finger into his chest.

"You stay if I say you stay."

The X6's eyes hardened. "Unless you've got a tranq up your sleeve, _Sir_, I don't think you can stop me."

Alec grimaced. That one hurt—especially the _Sir _part—but he couldn't let himself care. The reasons he'd left Dalton behind in the first place hadn't changed; if anything, the risk was greater. "This isn't a game, Dalton."

"You think I don't know that? I grew up Manticore, same as you."

Oscar and Kazi came up to stand behind Dalton. They were just kids. How could they expect him to put them in the line of fire?

"You're not going," he said firmly, taking Dalton's pack and dropping it at the boy's feet.

Mole walked by with a large case balanced on his shoulder. "We could use another group to provide long range support," he said in passing.

"Shut it, Mole. You're not helping."

"Just sayin'," Mole called out over his back as he moved down the tunnel.

Dalton straightened to his full-yet-not-fully-grown height and gave Alec a pointed glare. "You_ owe_ me."

The kid was right. Alec did owe Dalton—his life, and Max's. He would never have been able to rescue Max without Dalton's help, and he would've certainly been a stain on the floor of Advanced Biomedics if not for the X6's persistent friendship.

Which was exactly why he couldn't let him go.

Alec spotted Max, who was managing the transport assignments. He sent her a pleading look, silently begging her to veto the whole thing and put an end to it once in for all. He didn't need one more person to worry about on this trip.

Max, apparently, did not get the message. "Mole's right. We could use all the help we can get," she said, affectively undermining his whole argument.

Alec pinned Max with a look that said _How could you not back me?_, but all she did was shrug. Fuming, he spun back toward the kids.

Dalton's eyes were bright and he was smiling broadly, but he quickly schooled his face to neutral when Alec turned back. Kazi was even less successful at containing her excitement. Oscar, on the other hand, looked a little green.

"You do not," Alec commanded sternly, leveling a finger at them, "under any circumstances, engage the enemy unless absolutely necessary. You three will stay on the perimeter and out of sight, or, so help me, I'll make you all pay. You copy?"

"Yes, sir!" the three of them said in unison, snapping to attention. Then their eyes were widening as they looked around them, taking in the organized chaos of a large military operation.

"Awesome," Dalton said in awe. It had been a long time since he'd seen that much hardware all in one place.

Kazi rubbed her hands together, looking like a kid at Christmas. "Feels like forever since I've had a chance to blow something up."

Oscar rolled his eyes and grabbed a handful of Dalton's and Kazi's jackets and dragged them past Alec, carefully avoiding eye contact. "Just get in the van before he changes his mind."

Max looked over at Alec, who was pensively pacing back and forth as the rest of the cargo was loaded. She walked over to him, touching his arm. He still had that accusing look in his eye, and she didn't begrudge him it.

"They would've followed us anyway," she explained. His only response was an irritated frown. He knew she was right.

"Come on," she said, patting him on the arm. "Time to go."

* * *

Snow fell in soft flakes, light but steady. Alec stood with his back pressed against a tree; if you didn't know he was there, you would've thought he was a part of the landscape. He spotted the others around him, but only because he knew they were there. The odds of a Familiar spotting them in the snow were slim to none, which was exactly how he wanted it.

Max stood next to him, cautiously peering out from behind her own tree. Far below, the Familiar compound glowed like a Christmas tree in the dark, lighting up the night. Once they were within range, they'd have to hit hard and fast—the storm wasn't strong enough to hide them in all that glare.

Down there, somewhere, his child waited. Alive. He was sure of it.

The other two teams were stationed at different points in the woods, waiting for the predetermined time of attack. Glancing down at his watch, Alec pulled out his radio and hit the button.

"Status," he said quietly. They'd already scouted ahead and verified that the Familiars weren't running patrols in this mess, but you couldn't be too cautious. One by one, the teams reported in.

_Larry's a go._

_Curly's a go._

"Moe's a go," Alec confirmed, glancing around at his own team members. "Move out in five."

_Affirmative_, Mole's voice replied. Satisfied, Alec was about to return his radio to his belt when it sounded again. _You want us to save him for you? _Mole asked. No one had any doubt to whom he was referring. They may have been there to take down the Familiar base, but in reality it all came down to one man.

Alec thought about it for a moment. He had imagined killing Ames White in a thousand different ways since the moment he'd known the Familiar had taken Max, but not one of them would erase what the man had done.

"No," Alec said finally into radio. "I want him dead. I don't care how." He turned to Max. "You okay with that?" he asked. If anyone should have a say in the matter, it should be Max.

Max hesitated, thinking of everything that White had done, and everything he might still do if they let him walk. "Yeah," she replied. "I'm good."

"You get that, Mole?" Alec called into the radio.

_White's head on a platter. Copy that._

Alec glanced down at his watch, watching the minutes tick off. Then he blinked as he noticed the day. It was Thursday. Only Thursday. Had it really only been a day since he'd crept out of their bedroom to kill White? It was hard to believe.

Wait a minute. It was Thursday.

Without warning and in front of their entire attack unit, Alec grabbed Max's hand and pulled her to him, wrapping an arm tight around her waist. He planted an exaggerated kiss on her lips, pulled back and said, "I love you."

Max pushed against him, eyes flicking to the others. So much for setting an example for the troops. "I know, you idiot, but now's not the time."

"Sorry," Alec said, though the smile on his face said it was a lie. "Just keeping a promise."

He let her go, a bit reluctantly. If things went badly, there was a good chance that the kiss they had just shared might be their last.

Alec turned and faced the Familiar compound, banishing the thought. He cleared his mind of everything but their mission. "You ready, Maxie?"

Max rolled her shoulders and put her game face on. Hell, yeah, she was ready.

"Let's go kick some ass."

* * *

A/N: I'm hoping that I'm back on a roll here, but a few reviews might help me along. (_hint, hint_)


	12. Ch 11: And So It Begins

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: To make up for the long wait last time, I present to you the next chapter… in under three weeks! It's a Christmas miracle!

Warning: From this point on, there will be a whole lot of language and violence. It is war, after all.

* * *

Chapter 11: And So It Begins…

Zev stepped through the doors of the Command building, feeling the welcoming blast of warm air. She sighed with pleasure as she pulled off her hat. She may have been a transgenic, but cold was cold. She paused to shake the snow off of her coat before hanging it up on the hooks Luke had installed just inside the doors. Luke—he always thought of the little things.

She stomped her boots a couple of times before heading down the hall toward Command Central. Her shift had ended half an hour ago, but she couldn't sleep. People said hi to her as she passed, many of them in a commiserating grumble. She wasn't the only one pissed off about being left behind.

As she stepped into Central, her eyes immediately sought out Wil. When she spotted him, a grin broke across her face.

He was slumped at Communications, practically horizontal in the chair with his feet propped up on the counter. His head lolled so far over the backrest that he had to be either contemplating the ceiling or asleep—probably the former. Wil was too conscientious to fall asleep on duty.

Wait a minute. Were his eyes closed? Oh, that was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

Zev snuck across the room until she was right next to the chair, then leaned over him until she was staring at his upside-down face. "Sleeping on the job, mister?"

Wil jerked upright at the sound of her voice, which had the unfortunate side affect of causing his forehead to smack right into her face. She backed away, cursing, her hand to her mouth.

"Dammit, Wil!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Ow…" He bent over in the chair, his hand to forehead. His face was scrunched in pain.

Zev gingerly felt her bottom lip, which was now throbbing and felt twice its size. "Am I bleeding?"

Wil opened one eye to take a look, then closed it again. "I don't think so."

"It's bad enough you were sleeping on the job, but you have to add assault to your list of crimes?" She was only half teasing.

"It was an accident! And I wasn't sleeping!" he protested. "I was just resting my eyes to try to get rid of this killer headache, which is ten times worse now, thank you very much."

Zev's tongue darted out to lick her lower lip. She didn't taste any blood. She did, however, catch Wil staring at her mouth, his own hanging open a bit. She kind of liked the way he was looking at her. She licked her lip again—for experimental purposes only—and watched him redden.

God, he was almost unbearably cute. Usually she didn't go for cute, but she'd make an exception in his case. Besides, it was a hot kind of cute. "Why do you have a headache?" she asked, moving to sit on the counter beside his chair. His blush deepened.

Awesome. If she had this much affect on him fully clothed, she couldn't wait to find out what happened once she got him into her bed.

Wil slid his chair back an inch or two, thinking he might be able to better talk if he could actually breathe properly. Being in close proximity to Zev had a funny affect on him. "Because," he said, "I've been on the horn with our esteemed Corporal Peach Fuzz on and off for the past two hours trying to convince him that Max and Alec and Mole _and_ Dix are somehow not available, all at the same time. Why he's calling in the middle of the night, I have no idea, but the guy won't take no for an answer. I'm seriously thinking taking up assassination again just so he'll leave me alone."

"Aw, come on, he's not that bad."

Wil glared at her.

"Okay, maybe he _is_ that bad. But since when do you let a guy like that get to you?"

Wil rubbed his forehead again. "Since now."

There was a little furrow of pain right between his eyebrows. It made her want to reach out and rub it away.

Whoa. Apparently this thing with Wil already went deeper than she thought.

She cleared her throat and looked around the room, trying to find something else to look at besides him. "Anything going on?"

"Aside from giving PF the runaround, not a thing. Not a damn thing. Which is supposedly a good thing, I guess."

"But it's boring as Hell," Zev added.

"It is that."

Wil fell silent. He looked down at watch, twisting it nervously on his wrist. She noticed the time. "Think they're there yet?" she asked.

He nodded. "The attack has probably already begun."

She sighed. "Wish I could be there with them."

"Me too."

The silence stretched out between them again. What else could they say about it? Nothing that would make either of them feel any better about it.

Wil's brow suddenly furrowed again and he looked up at her. "Hey, didn't your shift end a while ago?"

Zev shrugged. "Thought I'd keep you company."

"Yeah?" Wil mentally cursed his voice for coming out in a strangled almost-squeak.

"Yeah," she said, shifting slightly to bump his leg with her own. "I was thinking that after your shift was over, you'd come have a drink with me."

He opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off. "At my place," she added, her voice deeper.

"I thought…," he began, then paused to clear the lump from his throat, "I thought you said you were gonna wait until this was all over?"

Zev's eyes darkened. "I changed my mind."

Wil's heart was pounding in his chest again. He glanced down at his watch. Two more hours until his shift was over. An eternity. Damn it. Maybe he could get Luke to cover for him…

The lights went out.

Wil's head fell forward and smacked against the counter. "I'm cursed. I have to be. It's the only explanation."

Zev laughed. "You know what? I think you may be right."

* * *

She was running. Trees passed by in her peripheral vision—blurs of brown and green and white. Alec was in front of her, moving through the woods as if he were a part of it. She concentrated on keeping up. On getting her body to hold out a little longer.

It was quiet. Even with dozens of transgenics moving through the woods, they barely made a sound. There would be plenty of noise soon enough—that was unavoidable—but it wouldn't matter, at least not as far as the ordinaries were concerned. They'd already brought down a large tree across the only road leading to the small, nearby town, so they wouldn't have to worry about cops or emergency services showing up, no matter what the people down there heard.

As the trees flashed past, memories did as well. Taller trees. Smaller bodies, running beside her.

Tracking. Hunting. Killing.

No. Don't think about that. This isn't like that. You're here because you want to be. Because you have to be. _You're_ in control. _You're_ the one that decides how far you are willing to go. This isn't about death; it's about life.

She kept running.

* * *

She had fallen behind—not by much, but when you were operating as a unit, it mattered. Joshua trailed behind with her, faithfully following his duty to keep her safe.

Up ahead, she saw Alec and the others come across the first perimeter guards. As they snuck closer to the enemy, her vision tunneled until all she could see was Alec. His movements were grace itself. She slowed, gradually coming to a stop, unable to look away.

Alec slipped behind a guard. He struck without warning, silent and deadly, hand reaching around to cover the guard's mouth the same instant his knife raked across the man's neck. Before the guard had even dropped to the ground, Alec had already taken out his partner.

Then he was standing over them, blood dripping from the knife in his hand to paint crimson drops on the snow-covered ground.

Her heart stopped. She'd never seen Alec kill someone before. Not like that.

Something crashed into her from behind, knocking her to the ground. She rolled in time to see Joshua standing over her, fighting a Familiar. The guy must have come around the corner of the nearby outbuilding. Joshua had pushed her out of the way to protect her.

She lay there for a second before her brain kicked in. She was no damsel in distress, and no way was she letting someone else fight her battles. She was about to get to her feet when she heard a sound behind her. As she was turning around, she could see in her peripheral vision another guard (a woman this time) raising her arm, gun in hand.

She wasn't going to be able to get out of the way in time. She wasn't fast enough.

She waited for the familiar burn of hot lead searing through her chest, but it didn't come. Before the guard could pull the trigger, Alec was suddenly behind the woman, as if he had materialized out of thin air. One hand forced her gun arm down while the other reached up, grabbed hold of her chin, and jerked to the side in one hard movement. Max thought she heard a gunshot, but it was only the sickening snap of the guard's neck. Alec let the body drop to the ground, sending up a puff of snow.

Max stared up at him, eyes wide. This was who Alec had been. Cold. Deadly. Efficient.

"Max."

This was the weapon Manticore had made him to be.

_"Max."_

She finally heard him whisper her name, harsh and half desperate. She blinked, and the mask he had worn seemed to melt away. Behind it was Alec. Just Alec.

"Come on," he added quietly. Then he held out his hand, almost hesitantly, as if he were afraid she would slap it away.

His eyes, which had been so cold and emotionless only a moment ago, were full of fear, but at the same time, acceptance. It was as if he feared rejection but somehow at the same time accepted it. He would not judge her if she turned her back on him—on the man he had once been and now had to be again. He would walk away if that was what she wanted.

She reached up and took his hand.

* * *

Somewhere off to the left, the shooting started. Two rounds. Then another. Then a flurry of rounds overlapping each other.

Alec grimaced. "Damn. I was hoping we'd have more time." He pulled his gun from his shoulder holster and his radio from his belt. "All teams," he said into the radio, "cat's out of the bag. Fire at will."

Alec's eyes fell on her, and she shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. She had refused to carry a gun. She just couldn't do it, even with everything that was at stake. Alec had seemed relieved at the time, but now, hip deep in the middle of a war and sinking fast, he surely saw it as a liability.

She saw his eyes shift to Joshua. They shared a look. Joshua nodded and stepped closer to Max, pulling the shotgun from the holster strapped across his back. Alec gave a satisfied nod and turned to address their unit.

"Come on. We need to move."

* * *

They were pinned down.

Their squad of fifteen had been trimmed down to eight. Three were out of commission due to serious injuries and were laying low until they could be picked up on the way out. They'd lost two to a landmine (Who the hell would've figured the Familiars would booby trap the perimeter?), and another two to enemy fire since they'd been pinned down behind the big-ass military truck they were currently using for cover.

The truck rocked as the .50 cal hit them again.

"Where the hell did they get the fucking hardware?!" Lon yelled over the noise, ducking lower and wincing when a piece of shrapnel nicked his cheek.

"I don't know!" Alec yelled back. He popped up over the hood of the truck, fired three rounds in quick succession, then popped back down before anyone could get a bead on him. "It certainly wasn't sitting there the last time I was here!"

"I think they broke it out just for us!" Max shouted. She felt helpless, cowering behind the truck, unable to fight back. Several times, she found herself almost asking for a gun. She'd even opened her mouth to do it, but the words wouldn't come.

"We stay here, everyone FUBAR," Josh yelled. "Got to get inside!"

"I know!" Alec barked angrily. He glanced down at the ground, where the bloodied bodies of Lee and Geena were arranged side-by-side, patiently awaiting retrieval.

Their deaths were on him. He was squad leader; they were his responsibility.

Snow kicked up as bullets zipped under the truck. Joshua grunted in pain as one winged his calf.

"Joshua! Are you all right?!" Max shouted, reaching for him.

Joshua's jaw clenched against the pain, but he nodded. "Just a scratch."

Max ripped his pant leg open wider. He was right. It was just a scratch; deep enough to be bloody, but not life-threatening.

She grabbed her pack, which was full of medical supplies. She wouldn't carry a gun, but she could do something to help the cause. She ducked as another bullet ricocheted past; it barely missed burying itself in her shoulder

"We need to call in artillery!" she yelled to Alec as she swiftly bandaged Joshua's leg.

"It's too early in the game for that!"

"We stay here much longer, we won't last 'til the end of the game!"

Alec ground his teeth together, debating whether he should make the call. The truck rocked again as rounds pound into the opposite side. The windshield shattered, raining glass down on him.

"Damn it!" he cursed. Then he pulled out his radio.

* * *

Dalton paced. His breath puffed out between cold-whitened lips. He'd stop, look into the wall of white, and then pace again. The Familiar compound was too far away from their position to see through the snow. His ears picked up the sound of gunfire, but he couldn't see what was going on.

His friends were down there. Fighting. Maybe dying.

Oscar stood with his back against a tree, one eye on Dalton and another on the terrain. He was afraid that a Familiar patrol might come across him, but he was more afraid that Dalton might do something stupid.

He glanced at Kazi. She was unusually calm. She sat on a rock, patiently waiting. Kazi had a job to do. He and Dalton were there to make sure she could do it.

Oscar looked back to Dalton; his friend had literally worn a path in the snow all the way down to cold earth.

"Do you think you could stop doing that?" Oscar asked him.

Dalton shot him a glare that made Oscar feel lucky that that he didn't burst into flame on the spot. "Sorry," he muttered with a slight cringe.

_DOK, come in. This is Moe._

All three kids' heads turned at the sound of the codename Alec had used for their group—an acronym of the first letters of each of their names. Kazi scrambled for the radio that they'd set on a nearby rock, snatching it up before either of the boys could grab it.

"Moe, this is DOK. Copy, five by five."

_We're pinned down by heavy artillery--.50 cal, mobile. _They didn't understand what he said next, because his voice was drowned out by the sound of heavy gunfire. After a couple of seconds, it died down, and they could hear him again. _We could use an assist here, DOK._

Automatically, Dalton made a grab for the radio. Kazi slapped his hand away; this was her territory. "How serious is the situation?" she asked.

_Extreme. I've already lost four people._

The three of them shared a look. _Four_. Four people they had known, gone.

Kazi's grip tightened on the radio. "You want Big Bertha?"

There was a pause on Alec's end, as if he was having trouble making up his mind. Then he finally answered, "Affirmative. Give me Big Bertha."

"On it." Kazi replied. She set the radio back down and scrambled toward her gear. After a bit of shuffling, she dragged a metal box out of the mix. Once she had it where she wanted it, she started punching in a code on the computerized lock.

Dalton and Oscar walked over to the edge of the clearing and glanced down toward where they knew the Familiar encampment should be. "How are you going to know what you're shooting at?" Oscar asked. "We can't see jack down there."

The locked beeped and clicked open. Kazi lifted the lid. "We don't need to see."

The boys moved back over to where Kazi was setting up. They leaned in, both of them practically gasping with awe. "Holy shit, is that what I think it is?" Dalton asked.

Nestled inside the box was a small guided missile.

Kazi began lowering the hinged sides of the box, which revealed a built-in launcher. "Yep. We've only got one for each support group, so we've got to make it count."

"Big Bertha?" Oscar asked, incredulous.

Kazi smiled. "Don't underestimate her. She's little, but she packs a big punch."

* * *

Alec's radio crackled. Kazi's adolescent voice came through. _Package is ready, Moe. Paint the target._

"Roger that," Alec replied. He set the radio on the ground then dug into one of his many zippered pockets. After a second, he pulled out a small disc, surprisingly heavy for its size.

"What's that?" Max asked, eying the disk. She rarely paid attention to the military tech Alec and Mole brought into Terminal City. As long as it worked and someone else was in charge of using it, she didn't really care.

"Tracker," he replied. He pressed the button in the center to activate the small electromagnet inside. "Okay, guys," he called out to the others. "Get ready to cover me. On three."

The rest of them got into position as Alec counted, preparing to lay down fire. On three, they fired in unison, sending a hail of bullets at the Familiars. Alec waited a heartbeat, then popped around the side of the truck and heaved the tracker sidearm in the direction of the .50. He fell to the ground, eyes straining even with his enhanced vision to see through the snow.

He caught a glint of light off of the side of the jeep holding the big gun. He smiled and rolled back behind the truck. Luck was apparently on his side at that moment, because bullets cut a line through the ground where he'd just been, kicking up snow and dirt.

He grabbed his radio and opened the connection. "Target painted."

_Copy that. Receiving… _There was a long pause, but he could hear little beeps in the background as Kazi finalized the launch code. _All right. Get ready to duck and cover, Moe._

"EVERYBODY GET DOWN!" Alec yelled, grabbing Max and pulling her to him, sheltering her body with his own. A second later, Joshua's big arms wrapped around them both, protecting them as best he could.

Kazi's voice could be heard through Alec's radio, seeming to echo in the sudden silence in gunfire. _Bertha deployed._

It felt like forever, but in reality it was only a couple of seconds. There was a flash of light, followed by wave of heat. The concussive force of the blast rocked the truck they were hiding behind. Flaming debris began to rain down all around them, and they pulled in as close to the truck as possible for cover.

After it died down, they began to get up and cautiously look around. Alec peered over the hood of the truck.

"Did we get it?" Max asked.

Alec narrowed his eyes, searching through smoke and flame. A few people were moving, but it didn't look like they'd be doing it for much longer. Big Bertha had done her job. The missile had not only cleared the gun, but all of the personnel near the entrance of the building as well.

"We got it." Alec waved his arm, motioning the team forward. "We're clear, people. Keep your eyes open for stragglers. Let's move out!"

* * *

Bodies. Or what was left of them. Bits of red and charred black strewn over the snow, steaming in the cold air.

Max stood in the center of the blast, staring at the carnage. _She'd_ told Alec to call in the artillery. _She_ had done this.

She jerked in surprise when a hand came down on her shoulder, but it was it was only Joshua. She had to quit spacing out, or she was going to get herself killed.

"Come on, Little Fella," Joshua said gently, turning her away from the horror. "Have to keep moving."

* * *

Max threw her back against the wall beside the door. Ouch. Shouldn't have done that. She breathed through her nose and pretended that it didn't hurt.

Alec was already on the opposite side of the door, gun at ready. The rest of their team was standing by—some of them ready to storm the door, some of them watching the perimeter, all of them ready.

Alec glanced over at her, and there was worry in his eyes. "Sure you can do this?" he asked softly.

Max thought about what was behind that door. About everything that had happened in there. About what she had lost behind those walls.

Emotion threatened to rise up and overtake her, but she pushed it back down. All that was in the past. She needed to focus on the present.

She shot him an irritated glare. "Just blow the goddamn door."

Alec smirked. "That's my girl."

He held out his hand without looking, as if he were a doctor asking for a scalpel. Lon slapped a small shaped charge in his hand with the efficiency and no-nonsense of an ER nurse. Alec fixed the charge near the handle of the door, then slid away a few steps. "Fire in the hole!" he yelled and turned his face away.

There was a small explosion, which left a hole the size of a small melon in the door. Alec didn't hesitate, tossing two grenades into the hole in quick succession. There were two muffled bangs, one right after the other. Before Alec could move in, Joshua took the lead, thinking of the promise he'd made to Max. He kicked in the door and rushed inside, shotgun at ready. Alec and two others slipped in right behind him took out any remaining Familiars by hand.

When Max came through the door, Alec was patting down a body on the floor. The man's dead eyes stared up at her, accusing.

"What are you doing?" Max asked, unable to look away from the dead Familiar's eyes.

"I'm…," he began, still searching pockets. "Aha." He held up a key card. "…saving us a lot of trouble later."

Max was finally able to break away from that dead stare. She looked at Alec and the sick feeling in her gut subsided. "And they say you're just a pretty face," she said, trying to keep it light. For morale, she told herself, but it was more for her sake than anyone else's.

Alec winked at her. He stood and called out to rest of the team. "Search the others. See if you can find anything useful." Then he walked very deliberately over to her and held out the card. "Why don't you hold on to this?"

As Max's hand closed over the card, a wave of relief rolled through her. They couldn't trap her here anymore. She could get out, as long as she had that card.

She looked into Alec's eyes and saw the understanding there. That was exactly why he'd given her that card. "Thanks," she said, her tone expressing so much more than that one word could on its own.

Alec's smile softened. "Any time."

The search revealed two more key cards. Alec took one and gave the other to Lon. He didn't bother giving one to Joshua, since Joshua would be with Max.

The group of eight—once fifteen—turned and looked down the empty hall. Everyone checked their ammo, each working the action on their weapons to make sure they were clear. They couldn't afford a jam at this stage of the game.

Alec took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Here he was again, walking into the lion's den.

"Here we go."

* * *

"I need those generators up and running!" Wil barked into the radio, his voice showing signs of strain.

_I'm working on it_, Luke's voice crackled back. The storm was playing havoc with communications.

Wil turned in a circle, taking in the various essential stations in Command, all dark. They were flying blind. "Work faster."

Something was wrong. Something more than just a power outage. He could feel it in his bones.

He'd switched to his hand-held as soon as the power went out. Each of the patrol teams began reporting in as soon as they noticed the outage—SOP in a situation like this. He'd written that SOP himself.

The power outage wasn't what was bothering him. He could deal with that in his sleep. The thing that had him pulling out his hair was that one of the teams hadn't reported in yet.

It could've been anything. A broken radio. Bad signal. The team was on patrol in the little-used northwest tunnel—the most remote and broken down of the underground access ways. Any of these options were viable.

Zev had left fifteen minutes ago to check it out. Normally, it wouldn't have taken her that long to get there, but with the snow several inches thick on the ground and still coming down, blurring was out of the question.

Still, she should be there by now.

He'd tried to be patient, but he couldn't wait. He picked up his radio again. "Zev, this is Wil. Come in."

After a moment, her voice came through, distorted by the sound of the wind._ I'd _love _to come in. It's snowing friggin' sideways! Since when does it snow sideways in Seattle?_

She made him smile. Even with everything that was going on, she still made him smile. If he wasn't already completely in love with her, this would've been what pushed him over the edge.

"Find anything yet?" he asked.

_Haven't gotten there yet. Have I mentioned that it's snowing sideways?_

"You've got backup, right?"

They'd argued about that for a while, before she'd headed out. She'd been all, _I don't need a fucking babysitter_, and he'd been quoting rules and procedures until she finally agreed, probably to get him to shut up. He didn't care why she'd agreed, just that she had. He didn't want her going out there alone.

_Trix and Surge. Plus Digger's gonna meet us at the entrance. Be there in a minute or two. Call you back when I know something._

She closed the connection before he could say anything else. He knew he shouldn't worry. Zev had been running the Border since the early days of TC. She could take care of herself.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

He was pacing—muttering to himself and getting weird looks from the bare-bones crew in Command—when the power came back up. Transgenics swarmed to their stations, rebooting the various machines that were the heart of Terminal City's security.

Luke came in, still brushing the snow from of his bald head. "Power's back up," he said, walking over to Wil.

"Thank you, Luke, for stating the fucking obvious," Wil snapped.

Luke frowned, perplexed. The response wasn't like Wil. "What's up with you?"

Wil turned on him, looking ever so slightly unhinged. "Something's wrong, Luke. Can't you feel it?"

"I can't feel much of anything. It's freezing in here."

"I'm telling you. Something's wrong. We still haven't heard from the team patrolling the northwest tunnel."

"Communication's spotty at best there, even in the best of weather. It could be nothing."

Wil turned to the surveillance station, its monitors still dark. They didn't have enough generators to power the extensive maze of cameras around Terminal City.

"It's not nothing," Wil said. The certainty in his voice sent a chill down Luke's spine.

"Hey, Wil?" someone called out from behind him.

He turned and saw Blitz sitting at Communications, her hand raised to get his attention. She had one headphone to her ear, eyes unfocused as she listened to the reports coming through. They made a habit of listening to local radio traffic—police, emergency services, even military channels. When a decent percentage of the country either hated your guts or wanted you dead, it paid to stay in the know.

"There's a lot of static about the power outage. Seems they're saying it's not natural. Someone sabotaged the local substation. It's only affecting TC and about a five-block radius around us."

Wil and Luke exchanged a look. "That's not good," the transhuman said.

Just then, Wil's handheld squawked at him.

_Command! Wil! Come in. Shit! _It was Zev's voice, frantic.

"Zev?" Wil replied into the radio, eyes widening. "Are you guys okay? What's going on?"

_Jesus, Wil, they're dead. They're all dead. We've got a breach!_

Wil's heartbeat sped up to double time. "Pull back. We're sending backup right now." He waved frantically at Luke, who immediately went to make the call. "Zev, did you hear me? Get out of there!"

_Trix is down! I'm not leaving her!_

"Zev!"

_Can't talk right now!_

"Dammit, Zev!"

_Send me that backup…_

Wil heard the sound of gunfire, then the radio squealed as the signal cut off. Wil stared down at the metal and plastic in his hand, as if he could make it produce Zev's voice again through will alone.

Silence.

"ZEV!!" he yelled into the radio, but no one was listening.

* * *

A/N: Here's hoping the muse keeps feeling the Christmas spirit!


	13. Ch 12: Into the Breach

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: The muse is _feeling_ the Christmas spirit! I'm pretty sure I finished this chapter in record time… for me of late, anyway. I feel like I should sing the _Hallelujah_ chorus or something.

Warning: Language, violence, and general mayhem. Yay mayhem! (_Does a happy dance_.)

* * *

Chapter 12: Into the Breach

His heart stopped. It literally stopped beating.

The weight on his chest increased until it felt like he was being crushed. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think, except for one word that kept reverberating painfully through his brain.

_Zev_.

He had to do something. Help her. Save her. _Now_.

With a coughing gasp, his heart started beating again. "Alert all personnel," he barked at Luke once he'd found his voice. "We're under attack."

His panic escalated every second his radio was silent. She could be bleeding. _Dying_. He had to get to her. He turned and headed for the door.

"Wait, where are you going?" Luke called out, his own voice rising in panic.

"The northwest tunnel," Wil called out without even turning around.

"But we need you _here_," Luke pleaded, following Wil and grabbing his arm. He wasn't trained for this. He'd been in the basement at Manticore, for God's sake. He couldn't handle repelling an attack on Terminal City on his own.

Wil turned on Luke and grabbed the smaller transhuman by the shoulders, his fingers digging in painfully. "I have to go after her, Luke," he insisted.

It didn't matter that he was in charge and that Terminal City should've come first. He was going after her, duty be damned. He wasn't going to lose her before he even had a chance to tell her how he felt.

After a second, he realized his grip was hurting Luke. He took a calming breath and forced himself to let go. "I _have_ to," he repeated, willing him to understand.

Luke saw the look in Wil's eyes. It was a lot like the look he'd seen in Alec's when Max's team hadn't reported in from their mission. It was a mix of love and desperation, and he knew that it was something you didn't want to mess with.

The transhuman reluctantly nodded. "Just get back here as fast as you can."

Wil clapped Luke on the shoulder in thanks. "I'll coordinate by radio. Send runners to wake everyone up—it'll be more reliable at this hour than anything else. Get them mobilized, and keep me posted. And call Hank and Ivy. Explain the sitch, have them meet me en route." His thoughts may have been a bit clouded by his worry over Zev, but he wasn't stupid enough to head into a dangerous situation without backup. Getting himself killed wouldn't be very helpful.

He was about to move when Luke called out, "Wait!"

"What?!" Wil growled with frustration, spinning back around.

"It's… Corporal Higgins," Luke said. "I'm sorry, but he wants to talk to you."

Wil clenched his teeth around a scream. He stomped back over to communications and picked up the line. "Not now, goddammit!" he shouted, then slammed down the receiver. Luke stared at him in disbelief as the X5 headed out the door.

He hit the armory on the way out, grabbing two handguns, a sub-machine gun, and as much ammunition as he could stuff into his pockets. He hit the exterior door at a run, bursting out into the dark. And the snow. He'd forgotten about the snow. He skidded and almost fell, catching himself with one hand.

"Sonofabitch!" he cursed as he scrambled back to his feet.

He took off running, more careful this time. If he was going to help Zev, he had to make sure he made it there in one piece. He only hoped that she'd still be in one piece when he got there.

* * *

They moved quickly through the halls, checking the rooms and taking out any guards they came across. As soon as they came across a stairwell, they slipped down a level. They ran into a few more guards, but they hadn't seen very many techs or support personnel. It _was_ the middle of the night; they had probably been bedded down long before the shit hit the fan.

They were down to seven now. Ethan had taken a bullet in the leg a while back. He was still mobile, but the wound made it difficult for him to fight, and he was losing a lot of blood. Alec had ordered him to retreat to the rally point, where the rest of the wounded were holing up. Ethan had gone, under protest. By ordering him to retreat, Alec hoped that he'd saved a life. He would not regret his decision, but that didn't mean he didn't worry about their dwindling numbers.

They came to a halt at an intersection. Unfortunately, everyone recognized it. Ethan had been shot at that intersection—a spray of blood painting the one wall an ugly reminder.

Joshua squinted down the hallways, as if that would help him see the way more clearly. "Going in circles," he said.

Max leaned against a wall for a quick breather, slamming her hand against it in frustration. "This isn't working."

Alec came over to her and leaned against the wall next to her. As he reloaded his gun, he asked, "Does anything look familiar?"

"If it looked familiar, I would've told you already," Max snapped. She was tired and achy and sick of wandering sterile halls that seemed to press in on her. She wanted _out_.

Alec ignored the bite in her words. If anyone had a right to be pissy here, in this place, it was Max. "Think about it for a minute," he said, keeping his voice low and easy. He knew he was approaching a touchy subject. "You escaped from Gaines' lab once. Deep down, a part of you knows the way."

Max rolled her eyes at him. "Deep down, a part of you is full of shit."

"_Guys_…," Lon cut in, knowing it was best to stop them before they got started. He glanced nervously down the hall, everything in him screaming at him to move his ass. "We can't stay here. We're sitting ducks."

"Just… hang on a minute," Alec said, holding up a hand. He turned his attention back to Max. "I know this is hard for you, and I don't want be pushy and all, but he's right, Maxie. We don't get moving in the next few, we're toast."

"Fine," she said sharply and pushed herself away from the wall. She moved into the center of the intersection, where she could see the most but also where she was most exposed. Joshua reached out to pull her back, but Alec stayed his hand. He motioned silently for the rest of the team to watch for unfriendlies while they gave Max a chance to do her thing.

She turned in a slow circle, taking in the halls around her, but they all looked the same. Much as they had then. She'd been avoiding thinking about what had happened then in order to keep her sanity, but if she wanted them to make it out alive, she was going to have to suck it up and deal.

She didn't think what she was about to do was a good idea, but she had nothing else. She closed her eyes.

Instead of seeing the blackness of the back of her eyelids, it was as if she hadn't even closed her eyes. She saw walls, similar to the ones around her, but somehow they didn't feel the same. Then they began to move until they became a blur, turning and twisting as they had back then.

Bile rose in her throat. She put her hand to her head and felt herself begin to sway.

"Max!" Alec rushed forward and caught her. Keeping a hand on her to make sure she stayed upright. Her eyes popped open, and he saw a reflection of the fear he'd seen when he'd first found her in this place. She wasn't seeing him now, but as she had back then.

He couldn't afford to coddle her, not when they could be under fire any second. "Come on, sweetheart, we don't have time for this." He snapped his fingers in front of her face. She jerked, and her eyes came back into focus.

Max grabbed on to the front of his jacket and held on, head bowed. She took deep breaths through her nose until the nausea passed.

It was then that she noticed it—the tile under her feet. It something about it didn't seem right. It was lighter, more faded and worn than she remembered.

She jerked her head upright and tightened her grip on him. "I think we need to go down farther."

Alec smiled at her. Though he knew she wouldn't like it in a battle-type situation, he gave her a smacking kiss on the forehead, hoping to distract her from her memories. "Knew you you'd come through, Maxie."

Max scowled at him and rubbed away the kiss. "How many times do I have to tell you, _not now_."

"I hate to interrupt," Lon cut in, eyebrows raised, "but we're kind of in a hurry?"

"Right," Alec said, still grinning. "Look for a stairwell."

"Already passed one. Two turns back," Joshua offered.

"Then what are we waiting for?" said Max, pushing past them and heading back the way that they'd came. Joshua was already glued to her side; he took his bodyguard duties seriously.

"Nice to see the boss large and in charge again," Lon said to Alec.

"You're tellin' me," Alec replied and took off down the hall after her.

* * *

They found the stairwell easily. Joshua carefully poked his head through and took a look. "All clear," he called out.

"All right," Alec began. "Let's…"

His words were interrupted as a small but strong body crashed into him, taking him to the floor—Max. A split second later, a hail of bullets zipped through the air above them, right where he'd been standing.

Max had saved his life.

There was no time for thank yous. Instinct kicked in and he rolled toward the wall, bringing Max with him. They scrambled to their knees, plastering themselves against the wall to present less of a target.

"Joshua!" Alec yelled out, shielding Max's body as best he could while he returned fire.

The big transhuman leaned out of the door, shotgun ready. He fired two rounds, scattershot spreading out as it headed for the other end of the hall. At this range, it wouldn't be lethal, but it would certainly give the Familiar's pause.

As Joshua provided covering fire, Max and Alec inched forward until they were able to tumble in the door to the stairwell, out of the line of fire. Once they were safe, Joshua pulled back to reload.

Lon and the rest of the group were trapped on the opposite side of the hall, taking cover behind a large metal cart that had been left against the wall. A wall of bullets came from the other end of the hall, effectively cutting them off from Max, Alec, and Joshua.

"Go!" Lon yelled at them, ducking around the side of the cart and returning fire. "We'll keep them off your backs!"

For a split second, Alec almost said no. But then the soldier in him rose up and reminded him that he had a job to do.

"Secure the area until we return!" he ordered, already backing away from the door.

"Affirmative!" Lon yelled back after firing another few rounds down the hall.

Max started to follow Alec down, but stopped and turned back. She poked her head in the doorway and yelled out, "And don't get dead!"

Lon's grin was predatory. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Dix's group—codename Larry—entered the Familiar compound on the opposite end of the base from Moe. His unit was lucky; during their initial attack, they'd only lost one person and had two minor injuries. Considering Dix had the largest assault group of the bunch, that was saying something.

They'd split into three teams once inside. Each team had already checked out several locations they had predetermined according to the building's layout as possible locations for the Familiar's data center, but so far they hadn't had any luck.

Dix paused at yet another identical intersection, cursing the asshole that had designed the place. Even with a map, it was easy to get lost in the sameness of it all.

He turned around and took a look at his people, almost bumping into Gem, who had taken it upon herself to stand as his personal bodyguard. He'd tried to call her on it, but she'd told him that since she didn't know jack about computers, she was damn well gonna protect the man who did, so why didn't he shut up and let her do her job already? He'd figured it would be easier if he didn't argue. Still, it felt weird.

His people were getting that look in their eyes—the one you get when you bust your ass to the point of exhaustion only to find you've accomplished a whole lot of nothing. He wasn't really trained in the finer arts of combat, but he was pretty sure that wasn't good.

Looked like it was time for a pep talk. Goody.

"Gem, call the other teams," he asked. "Check on their progress." He figured she didn't need the pep talk.

"Gotcha," Gem said, already pulling out her radio.

Dix turned back to the rest of his group. "All right. Everybody needs to pull their shit together. You all know how important this is." As he spoke, he could see them straightening, refocusing. "We cannot afford to fail. We fail, we all die. So we're not going to fail, are we?"

"Hell, no," came the resounding response.

Dix nodded. "Good. Then let's find that data."

* * *

He ran, the icy air burning his lungs, his mind spinning with thoughts of Zev. Beneath the torrent of emotion was a strange undercurrent, occasionally rising to the surface to stab at him before sinking down again.

He kept thinking about Alec. About how it must've felt for him when they'd locked him up, keeping him from going after Max.

He understood now, truly understood, what a horrible thing they had done.

* * *

"Finally," Mole growled, taking a moment to lean against the wall and catch his breath. He lit a cigar and took a few heavenly puffs before stubbing it out again and putting it back into his pocket. There'd be time for that later, since he wasn't planning on dying today.

His team had finally made it inside the Familiar base. They'd met hard resistance every step of the way. He'd lost half of his group to severe burns when a gas tank had blown up. A couple of them might not make it. Some of them that did might wish they hadn't.

He figured what was left of his team had already expended about half of their allotted ammunition. If they ran into any more trouble inside the base, he was going to have to tell them to start looting the bodies they left in their wake for ammo.

He'd worry about that later. He had a job to do, and he was looking forward to doing it.

Time to blow those motherfuckers back to Hell.

"Okay, people," he called out, "you know the drill. Split up into your groups, find your target, set the charges. Once the job is done, haul ass back to the rally point and await detonation orders. Let's move!"

* * *

Dalton paced. Oscar watched Dalton. Kazi sat patiently next to the radio, waiting for word that she was needed.

The snow continued to fall.

* * *

Dix slipped through the door hard on Gem's heels. His heart was pounding in his chest. This had to be it. There wouldn't have been so many Familiars (now dead, thanks to his team) guarding a random room.

He stopped for a fraction of a second inside the door, eyes widening. _Jackpot_.

The sound of rapidly clicking keys quickly brought him back to himself. A couple of techs were sitting at the computers, working desperately to dump the data.

"Stop them!" Dix yelled, raising his gun to aim at the nearest tech's head.

Five seconds later, Gem was pulling the bodies across the floor away from the computers while Dix lowered himself down into the chair in front of the main terminal. He cracked his knuckles, flexed his fingers a bit, and started typing.

He frowned as an angry red lockout popped up on the screen. He hit a few key combinations, and it went away for a few seconds, only to pop right back up.

"This isn't going to be easy," he grumbled.

Gem came up to stand behind him. "What else is new?"

"Transgenic luck—you've got to love it," he said, shaking his head. "Secure the hall. Notify the rest of our teams to converge on this point. We have to hold it until we can get what we need."

"Will do."

* * *

There was too much blood. Her stomach roiled at the familiar smell. Too much, too fast, too familiar.

God, she had to hurry.

Zev tightened her grip on Trix's arm, which she'd thrown across her shoulders. She half-dragged the X4 down the street, trying to rush her along without doing further damage. The bullet in Trix's side had already done enough.

She blinked the snow out of her eyes and pushed forward. She knew there was no use in calling out for help. No one hung around this end of Terminal City, except the border patrol, and most of the members stationed down this end were already dead.

Up ahead, an amorphous shape loomed out of the snow-filled darkness. Heart pounding, she pulled her .9mm and aimed it at whatever was coming.

"Identify yourself!" she yelled, her words partially carried away by the wind.

"Zev!" came a familiar voice, followed by a familiar face as Wil materialized out of the snow. He skidded to a halt in front of her. A second later, Hank and Ivy came into view, both armed to the teeth.

Zev lowered her weapon. "Wil. Thank God."

The part of her that was still a soldier registered the fact that Wil shouldn't have been there. He should've been back at Command, coordinating their defenses. But the part of her that had always wanted to believe in fairytales recognized a knight in shining white armor when she saw one.

Wil had come for her. That meant something.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, panicked eyes scanning over them. All he could see was blood. Their clothes were spattered with it. There was a smear, almost like war paint, under Zev's left eye.

"I'm good," Zev said with a quick shake of the head. She nodded at the X4. "Trix took a bullet in the side."

"What the hell's going on?" Wil asked.

Zev glanced back the way they had come. "Familiars."

"Familiars? Here?" His voice was incredulous. What were the odds of TC being attacked by Familiars while TC's citizens were busy attacking the Familiar base? It had to be a billion to one.

"I _know_," Zev said, reading his mind. "Digger and Surge were holding them while I took care of Trix, but there were too many. We had to fall back." She paused, reliving it in her mind. "They're in the city."

_Familiars_, Wil thought. _Here, in Terminal City_.

A sharp grip on his arm brought him back to himself. "Wil, some of them had tranquilizer guns."

Wil's face hardened. Tranquilizers—he knew what that meant. As if the bastards hadn't taken enough from them already. Fucking Familiars. He'd be damned if he'd let them take anyone else.

"Get Trix to medical." With a nod to Hank and Ivy, Wil slipped past Zev and took off in the direction of the tunnel.

Zev's head whipped around to follow him. "_Wil_," she called out, worried.

Wil turned his head to yell back at her while he was running. He poked a finger back toward central TC. "Get her to medical!" he ordered. "Then get back to command and help coordinate! We'll try to contain them until you can get everyone mobilized!"

With that, the three of them disappeared into the swirling snow.

Zev turned around, readjusting her grip on her friend. "Come on, Trix. You'll be okay." She knew she was probably holding on too tightly, but the X4 was all she had to hold on to at that moment.

Even though her body headed back toward Medical, her heart tugged in Wil's direction.

* * *

Alec prowled the halls, his senses hyper-alert. They were down to three now. Max, Alec, Joshua—much like it had been back in the old days. The three of them against the world…when Max had been nice enough to let him play.

Those had been the good old days, back when they'd spent days at Jam Pony and nights at Crash, and Ames White had only been an occasional thorn in the side. Well, good except for the fact that half the time Max had actively hated his guts and the other half she had been too busy obsessing over Logan to even notice his existence. He didn't miss that part.

Alec slowed. It was quiet on this level.

"Too quiet," Joshua murmured, reading his mind.

"I know," Alec replied. He popped his magazine out and checked the load, even though he knew exactly how many bullets were left. He always kept count in his head back at Manticore, and it was easy to fall back into the habit. Still, better safe than sorry. Confirming his mental count was right, he popped the clip back in.

He looked over at Max. She stood, eyes closed, her hand on wall as if it were a touchstone. He could see the memories run across her face, nostrils flaring, jaw clenching. He wished he could spare her from it, but somewhere in those memories, amongst the all the pain and suffering, was a child waiting to be rescued.

Max's breathing quickened. She bared her teeth, fighting to push past whatever it was in her head that kept her from remembering. She pushed, mentally bearing down until sweat popped out on her forehead. But the memory wouldn't come, and she was left sagging against the wall, panting. "I don't know."

Alec walked over to her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Let's try around the next corner," he said, as if he were saying it for the first time, even though he'd already lost track of how many times he'd said it.

Maybe it was the quiet, or the frustration of searching empty hall after empty hall, that made him round the corner a little more casually than he should have.

There, standing at the other hand of the hall, was Ames White, surrounded by a dozen lackeys.

His senses cranked into overdrive. As a result, everything around him seemed to slow down to a crawl. He heard the ticking of the overhead florescent lights. Max's breath catching in her throat. The beat of his own heart, skipping once at the sight of the only person in the entire world that he truly hated.

All of this took only a split second. He blinked once, whispering, "_Déjà vu_," before the rage poured through him and he raised his gun and fired.

Joshua pulled Max back around the corner and out of the line of fire. She immediately tried to scramble forward to help Alec, but Joshua pushed her back against the wall, with a little more force this time to make his point.

"Stay," he told her. "Too much of a distraction." And then he was gone, slipping around the corner to help Alec.

Max knew Joshua was right. Her refusal to carry a gun made her useless in situations like this. She couldn't get close enough to engage the enemy in hand to hand, and she had no idea how long it would take to try to get around the other side and flank them, so all she could really do was wait until the shooting stopped, which was so very much not her style.

She rolled on to her belly and combat-crawled forward until she could peek around the corner, keeping a low profile. Maybe if she could see an opening, she could do something to help.

When she was finally able to see around the corner, she froze, her eyes wide and her mouth falling open.

Alec didn't need any help.

He stood, bold as can be in the middle of the hallway, now with two guns drawn and firing with robotic precision as he advanced down the hall. Men fell, one by one, for every bullet fired.

He didn't miss. Not once.

She saw a bullet graze his side—just a scratch, really—but he didn't flinch. He probably wasn't even aware that he'd been hit.

Alec had gone into some other place, somewhere she couldn't follow. The words he'd said to her in the conference room rang in her ears.

_I've been down this road before… You don't want to go there if you don't have to._

"_Alec…"_ she whispered, his name a plea, but for what, she wasn't sure.

* * *

Just like that, it was over. Between Alec and Joshua, White's men were decimated. He stood alone, at the other end of the hall, his uncanny luck leaving him with only a hole in his suit jacket and a handful of dead men.

Ames White was not a stupid man. He was out of ammo, and he had no time to reload. He wasn't about to fight a battle he couldn't win. Not unless he could change the stakes.

With a wink and a smile at 494, he turned and ran, slipping around the corner and out of sight.

* * *

Alec watched Ames White disappear around the corner, blinking in disbelief.

He'd run. The coward had run.

The man who had put him in a coma, who had tortured the woman he loved, who had taken his child—_that_ man was getting away.

_No._

"**WHITE!!**" he screamed, his vision white with rage. "YOU SON OF A BITCH! DON'T YOU RUN FROM ME!"

Without a thought to what might be waiting for him around that corner, Alec ran. He didn't think about himself, or about Max, or even the baby. At that moment, the only thing he cared about was ending Ames White.

* * *

Ice-cold fear gripped Max as she watched Alec take off after the Familiar. She'd seen the look on his face. He wasn't thinking straight. He probably wasn't even thinking at all.

"No! Alec, _wait_!" Max yelled. Alec was in a blind rage, and if he wasn't careful, he was going to get himself killed.

She pushed herself to her feet and in two seconds flat was running at full speed. "COME BACK!!"

Max chased down the hall after him, with Joshua hard on her heels, struggling to keep up. She turned the corner just in time to catch a glimpse of Alec as he rounded another corner at the other end of the hall.

Damn maze. She was going to lose him in all the twists and turns.

About halfway down the hall, she found her body slowing by its own accord. She wanted to chase after Alec, but her feet wouldn't listen. She stumbled as an image flashed through her mind, then another—each stabbing uncontrolled and white-hot through her brain. She tripped and fell, her momentum making her skid a few feet.

"Max!" Joshua yelled, crashing to his knees beside her. His hands began to roam over her, searching for injuries as his eyes scanned for an enemy. The way she crashed, he was afraid she'd been shot.

"I'm okay," Max said through gritted teeth, though she was far from it. Her healing injuries were screaming in protest from the fall. She looked toward the other end of the hall, feeling her heart sink. Alec was long gone.

"What happened?" Joshua asked, his voice still wary. With Alec gone, Max was his full responsibility, and he didn't know enough about emergency medicine to do more than bandage a wound or sew up a shallow wound.

Max raised her head to tell him she wasn't sure, but she stopped before the words came out, eyes widening. One of the images she'd seen while running—she was looking at it now, though this time, it wasn't a memory.

The same fire extinguisher on the wall, with a scratch of metal showing where someone had nicked off the paint. The same scuff marks on the floor, probably from the wheeled cart that Gaines had used to move the cryo-chamber. The same faded-blue paint on the walls.

Joshua helped her to her feet with one hand, holding his shotgun at ready with the other as he alternately watched the halls and sent worried glances Max's way.

"Little Fella?"

Max's grip on his arm tightened painfully, transgenic strength coursing through her. Her eyes reminded him of how she'd looked when they'd found her in this place, wandering the halls, half-crazed.

"Joshua," Max breathed. "I _know_ this place."

* * *

A/N: Apparently, a little action was all my muse needed to kick it back into high gear. He's hoping I can bring you guys a little New Year's present of another chapter!


	14. Ch 13: Old Friends

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: I thought I'd have this done a bit sooner, but the holidays were a big distraction. Too much making merry, I guess.

Warning: Language and mayhem. (Mayhem is quite possibly my new favorite word.)

* * *

Chapter 13: Old Friends

"Joshua," Max breathed. "I _know_ this place."

Joshua froze, blinking in shock. "What?" he asked, not sure if he had heard her right. They'd been roaming around aimlessly for so long, he'd begun to doubt that they'd ever find what they were looking for.

"I know this place, Joshua," Max said intently, waving a hand jerkily at their surroundings. "I _remember_."

Joshua looked around, trying to see what Max was seeing, the difference, but he couldn't. It looked like every other hall they'd already been down twenty times before. "You are sure?"

"Yes," Max replied, breath quickening as the memories hit her, hard and fast—being dragged back and forth from her cell, running the halls to escape.

These same halls. She was sure of it.

She looked around, trying to line up what she was seeing with what she remembered. "It's this way," she said, taking a few steps down the hall to her left. "Gaines' lab is this way."

"But…" Joshua stammered, sending a worried glance in the opposite direction, "what about Alec? Went the other way, after White."

"I know," Max said quietly, following Joshua's gaze.

The man she loved was out there somewhere in the maze of subterranean corridors, blindly chasing vengeance.

Their baby, if Alec was right and it still existed, was in the opposite direction.

Max turned and faced the dimly lit hall in front of her, ignoring the feelings that tugged her toward Alec. She knew the choice Alec would want her to make; she prayed that it was the right one.

"We're going to have to trust him," she said, more to convince herself than Joshua.

* * *

He ran, following White through doors and around corners. His vision tunneled until all he could see was the outline of White's back, suit jacket flapping like a cape as the Familiar fled.

The soldier in him knew this was a bad idea. Told him slow the fuck down. This was enemy territory, and there were tons of people in the compound that wanted him dead. He could be running right into an ambush.

The man in him said fuck that. The Familiar had taken his woman. His child. He wanted White's blood, and he didn't care what it took to get it.

The bastard wasn't getting away this time.

* * *

Damn. He'd forgotten how fast a Transgenic could be.

Ames White went over the map of the building in his head as he ran, always planning three moves ahead. He wasn't stupid. He knew he couldn't outrun a Transgenic. His familiarity with the terrain was the only chance he had. All he needed to do was buy some time until he could face 494 on his own terms.

A left, then a right, then…

His lips twisted in a smug smile. _Perfect_.

* * *

He almost had him. Just a few more feet and he'd be in range.

Alec became a blur, beginning to close the distance between them. He raised his gun and fired just as White slipped around a corner. Chunks of tile and plaster flew instead of blood.

"Damn it!"

Alec rounded the corner, taking it so fast he smacked into the opposite wall, impacting into the surface. Up ahead, White was already disappearing around another corner.

"Keep running, Ames!" he yelled, teeth bared as pushed away from the wall. "It won't do you any good!"

* * *

Wil skidded to a halt, sending up a spray of snow as he slid in behind the car that Digger and Surge were taking cover behind. Hank and Ivy were right behind him and took cover at the far end.

"Report," Wil snapped at Digger, following the transhuman's line of sight to locate the enemy.

Digger fired another two rounds before responding. "Familiars. Eight, maybe ten. Got some of them pinned down, but a group split off. Not sure how many. Couldn't stop 'em. Thought they were trying to flank, but doesn't seem to be the case."

"Which way?"

Digger jerked his head to left as he fired again.

Wil turned to Hank and Ivy. "Ivy, with me. Hank, stay here and help. Cover us."

He took off running, Ivy trailing close behind him. Once they slipped between buildings, they slowed, moving into stealth mode. The snow was coming down hard enough that it had already obscured most of the tracks, making them difficult to follow at speed. This, combined with the fact that they could be walking into an ambush, made them extra cautious.

Wil stopped suddenly, holding up his hand to halt Ivy. "_Listen,_" he mouthed. He tilted his head, straining to hear over the wind.

Ivy's eyes unfocused as she strained her senses. A moment later, they snapped back into focus, shooting towards Wil.

They'd both heard it. The sound of a fight. Muffled gunshots.

Wil's head turned in the direction of the sound. "That way."

They took off running, forgoing stealth for speed. They rounded the building to find a group of five Familiars fighting two Transgenics—a guy and a girl, from their size, probably Fives. A third, smaller Transgenic—had to be a Six—was already on the ground with a dart sticking out of his neck.

Wil saw a Familiar, his back turned, scoop up the boy and sling him over his shoulder.

Rage filled him, so hot it should have melted the snow around him. How dare they think that they could come here, take one of their own and get away with it. Bastards.

Wil raised his gun, but he couldn't get a clean head or body shot without hitting the kid. If he'd been in a TV show, now would've been about the time for negotiations, but this wasn't TV, and there was no negotiating with Familiars.

He lowered the angle and fired, putting a bullet into the man's knee.

The Familiar's leg collapsed under him and he fell to his knees, the Six tumbling from his shoulder to land in a heap in front of him. The guy turned to fire, but he no longer had his shield.

Wil put a bullet in his head, another in his chest.

He looked up to see the rest of the Familiar's retreating, dodging and weaving as Ivy emptied her gun at their backs.

Wil moved to kneel next to the fallen X6, fingers seeking a pulse. It was there—a little sluggish, but steady. "Track them," he ordered Ivy, "but don't engage. I'll call for backup."

Ivy gave a sharp nod of acknowledgement and then disappeared into the swirling snow.

"Were they…" the male Transgenic began, trailing off. What was his name? Jake? James? Wil couldn't remember. He hadn't been gifted with Alec's near-perfect memory, and TC's population was a little too large now for his own memory banks.

"Familiars," Wil confirmed. "We're under attack. Didn't you hear on the radio?"

Jake/James shook his head. "We were coming from EOS. The radio there's broken." He ducked his head, chagrinned, and gave a little shrug. "Got out of the habit of carrying a personal."

"Shit." Wil wondered how many of them had gotten lax in the past couple months of relative calm. It was going to make things a lot harder.

"Why'd they knock him out?" the girl—Rose, yeah, that was it—asked. "Why didn't they just shoot him? Us?"

Wil gently brushed the unconscious X6's hair out of his face. "I don't know. But I'm betting it has something to do with that killer drug of theirs." He looked up at the others, his face grim. "Get this kid to Medical, and alert Vash there may be more incoming. After that, I want you to arm yourselves—make sure you grab radios—and report to Luke in Command. Wake up as many people as you can on the way."

The pair snapped to attention, falling back on their training in time of crisis. "Yes, sir!"

_Wil, come in._ It was Luke's voice, coming from Wil's radio.

"Speak of the Devil," he muttered. He pulled the radio off of his belt and pressed the button to talk. "This is Wil. Go."

_We have a report of another breach. South side._

Wil shared a look with the others. "Understood. Has Zev shown up yet?" He didn't think she could have made it to Medical with a wounded Trix and then gotten over to Command already, but if she had, he'd leave it to her to explain so he could get moving.

_No. What the hell is going on, Wil?_

Damn it. "It's the Familiars."

_Familiars?! Are you serious?_

"Like a Psy Ops mind probe. Looks like they're operating under retrieval orders, but they're not afraid to use live rounds, either. Trix took one in the side. Zev will fill you in when she gets there. Until then, keep me apprised. Out."

Wil ended the transmission and hooked his radio back on his belt. He looked at the pair of Transgenics, Jake/James now holding the sleeping X6 in his arms. "Watch your backs," he told them, then took off down the street after Ivy.

* * *

Mole crouched lower behind the desk he'd flipped over for cover. The rest of his group was in a similar position. He ducked as a bullet winged a little too close to the cranium for comfort.

They'd been pinned down for about five minutes. Too long. He had a schedule to keep. Alec wanted this place turned into matchsticks before they were done, and he was damn sure going to make that happen.

"I don't know about you guys," he called out to his team, "but I'm sick of sitting around. We need to make a push. Ready?"

The various shouts of acknowledgement made him smile. "All right then." He shrugged, feeling the familiar weight of his favorite shotgun against his back. He would've preferred to have it in his hands instead of the matching pair of .357s he was using, but it wasn't really practical in this type of situation. Still, he'd brought it along, for good luck.

They certainly needed it.

"**Go!**"

They rose up as one and ran into the teeth of the enemy.

* * *

"Dalton. Can you come over here a minute?"

Dalton's head jerked up at the sound of Oscar's voice, hissing with quiet urgency. He slid down a short section of slope until he reached the rock outcropping where Oscar was lying prone, squinting down at where the Familiar compound would have been if it hadn't been obscured by the blowing snow.

"What is it?" he said as he sunk down beside his friend, scanning the area below, trying to see what Oscar was seeing.

Oscar squinted some more, then shook his head. "I don't know. It's gone now. But for a second, there was a break in the snow, and I thought I saw…" he trailed off, afraid to make his already edgy friend even more edgy.

"What? What did you see?" Dalton repeated, grabbing Oscar's arm.

Oscar hesitated for a second, brow furrowing with worry. "Movement."

"Movement? What kind of movement?"

"I don't know. It was only for a second. It could've been anything…"

"What's up, guys?" Kazi interrupted, coming over to join them. If the boys thought they were going to keep her out of the loop, they had another thing coming.

"Oscar saw something," Dalton said, getting to his feet.

"_Maybe _saw something," Oscar corrected as he pushed himself up to stand beside Dalton.

"Down below," the blonde X6 continued, ignoring Oscar's interjection.

"We should take a closer look," Kazi offered immediately. She was sick of sitting around.

"Right," Dalton said, already moving to grab his gear.

"Wait a minute," Oscar protested, grabbing Dalton's arm. "Alec said we were supposed to stay right here…"

Dalton pulled his arm from Oscar's grip. "Alec said we weren't supposed to engage the enemy, and we're not. We're just going to get a closer look, see what we can see."

"But it was probably nothing."

"You wanna take that chance?"

Oscar hesitated. There was so much as stake. "No."

"Then let's go."

"But shouldn't we notify the other long range support crews?"

"If we do, they'll just call us off and take care of it themselves. By the time they get there, whatever you saw might be gone. We need to move on this _now_."

"Fine, okay, but I still think…"

"_Boys_…" Kazi interrupted with an eye roll, "less arguing, more doing. Here," she said, shoving a sniper rifle at Oscar, "take this. You're better with it than I am anyway."

She handed Dalton a standard assault rifle (they all knew he was the weakest link when it came to marksmanship), then slung a grenade launcher over her back. "I'm better with stuff that goes boom," she said by way of explanation.

When they didn't move, she raised an eyebrow at them. "What are you waiting for? Let's move out."

* * *

He was close. So close. Round the corner and he'd have him.

He took it at full speed, compensating his trajectory so he wouldn't crash into the wall this time.

What he saw when he turned the corner brought him to a skidding halt.

The hall was deserted, lined with doors, each one of them open. Stacks of old equipment were shoved up against the walls haphazardly, a sure fire hazard if the Familiars had cared about that sort of thing. There were literally dozens of places to hide.

Ames White was hiding somewhere down that hall, waiting for him.

"Shit."

* * *

"Wait. Wait a minute."

Max held up a hand, signaling Joshua to stop. Her friend remained silent beside her, ready to offer assistance but not wanting to do anything that might interfere with Max's memory.

She took a couple of deep breaths to help her focus and to slow her rapidly beating heart. She was beginning to fear that she'd never find Gaines' lab. The memories were there, she knew they were, but it was so hard concentrate. She kept thinking about Alec. Was he okay? Did he find White? What if he was lying in a corner somewhere, bleeding out? Dying, because she hadn't gone after him.

No. She couldn't think like that. Alec would be okay. He'd take care of White, she'd find the baby, and it would still be alive, and they'd take it and run. They'd blow this place to Hell, go home and live happily ever after and forget all about Ames White and the Familiars.

Yeah. And then they'd get citizenship and the right to vote.

Max snorted and rolled her eyes. God, she was tired.

"You okay, Little Fella?" Joshua asked in hushes tones. She could hear the worry in his voice. He probably thought she was cracking up. Maybe she was. It wouldn't be the first time, in this place.

"I'm good," she insisted, even though she wasn't. "Got turned around, is all. Just need to get my bearings." She turned around in a circle, comparing what she was seeing to the pictures in her mind.

Nothing. Goddammit.

"We need to backtrack." She ran her hands over her face, trying to rub away the tiredness. "I think I missed a turn."

Joshua patted her on the shoulder. "We'll find it, Max. Have patience."

Max turned around and started back the way they came. "We don't have time for patience."

* * *

Zev paced. She knew she was making Luke nervous, but she couldn't help it. Wil was out there somewhere, fighting, risking his life, while she was stuck here coordinating troop movements. Stuck because it had been his big idea for her to hold down the fort at Command.

Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? She needed to be out there with him, watching his back, not manning a radio. She was a soldier as much as he was, goddammit. Not to mention that she was a better shot. The jerk probably thought he was protecting her. Well, she didn't need protecting, and when he got back, she'd let him know what she thought of his macho posturing.

She'd never wanted anything more in her life than to have Wil standing there in front of her so she could yell at him.

There were two, possibly three groups of Familiars inside of TC. There was open fighting in the streets, and Medical was already being overrun with injuries. They'd collapsed all secondary tunnels because they didn't have the manpower to cover them. Oh, and the generator powering Command had died. They were waging a war in the dark with handheld radios and word of mouth reports.

On top of all of this, Wil was missing.

They hadn't heard from him for a while. He'd been checking in regularly, then nothing. She'd asked everyone that called in if they'd seen him, but no one had.

Five minutes. She'd give him five minutes, and then she was going after him. Luke would have to hold the fort on his own.

There was still three minutes to spare when Wil burst through the doors of Command, covered in snow and sweat and grime. Blood oozed from a cut on his forehead, which looked like it might have been caused by shrapnel, but other than that, he was whole and unharmed.

Zev grabbed the edge of the nearest table as her knees went weak. She hadn't let herself feel how scared she had been while he was out there, because feeling it was too close to admitting that something would happen. Now that he was safe and she didn't have to hold it back anymore, those feelings broke free and threatened to drown her.

Dead God, she was falling for him. Hard.

His eyes met hers, and she could see relief settle over him as soon as he'd spotted her. As he headed toward her, she didn't know whether she should smack him or hug him. Maybe both.

He came to a stop directly in front of her, a tired smile on his face. She did neither.

"Where have you been? You've been out of contact," she said accusingly, her voice thick with emotion that she was struggling to reign in. _Get a grip, Zev_, she scolded herself. _This is not the time. We're at war, for crissakes._

"Sorry," he said, reaching up to push his snow-damp hair back from his forehead. "Radio took a hit. Didn't have time to find a new one."

"You _should_ be sorry." Zev sniffed. "You scared the hell out of me."

Wil's smile softened. "Didn't mean to," he said quietly. There was this look of hope in his eyes—even in the midst of everything. Hope for something more.

Zev didn't know what to say. She wished it was all over and done with so she could drag him off somewhere and wrap herself around him, if only to feel the beat of his heart against hers, but she wouldn't get that wish. Before the day was out, they would surely both be put in the line of fire again. If she had learned anything from her time at Manticore, it was to stay firmly grounded in the present. You never knew if there would be a tomorrow, for you or the person next to you, so there was no sense in thinking about the future.

But then there was Wil, standing there, so brave and hopeful that it nearly broke her heart.

Screw Manticore. If she had a future, then she wanted Wil in it.

"_Wil_," Luke interrupted, breaking the spell between them. "Thank God. Corporal Higgins has been calling for the past half hour." He held out his radio.

Zev grabbed it from Luke, irritated with both the transhuman and friggin' Peach Fuzz that she and Wil had been interrupted. They'd been having a moment.

"We're kind of busy here, Corporal. We'll have to get back to you." She cut off the transmission before PF could respond.

Wil raised an eyebrow at her. Luke just looked tired. "He's going to call back," the transhuman sighed.

Zev made a face. "Let him. We've got bigger problems."

The three of them moved to the table in the center of the room, which had a detailed map of TC laid across it. Poker chips marked areas where there'd been confirmed reports of fighting. Wil looked down at the map and shook his head.

"Our basic problem is lack of communication and this damn storm. Visibility is low, even for us. People are cut off from each other. Not to mention that most of our best combat specialists are out attacking the Familiar base. The majority of the people that stayed behind are kids or non-combatants. We can't mount a coordinated defense."

"So we're screwed," Zev muttered.

"Maybe…" Wil said, trailing off as his eyes scanned over the map, shifting to the far edge. All of the sudden he straightened, eyes snapping up to meet Luke's. "Get Higgins back on the horn."

The transhuman didn't question him, just did as he was told. He was thankful to have someone else in charge.

Zev's brow furrowed and she took a step closer to Wil. "What are you going to do?"

"You're not going to like it."

"_Wil_," Zev scolded with impatience.

Wil grimaced. "I'm going to let the army invade TC."

* * *

Dix's fingers flew over the keyboard. Every time he'd find a way in, he'd have to work around another lockout. The Familiars were good—damn good. But he was better.

"Tricky bastard," he muttered to himself, eyes glued to the monitor. "Not tricky enough." There was another thirty seconds of the staccato sound of typing, then a loud click as he pounded the Enter key with glee. "_Gotcha_."

Gem moved to look over his shoulder. "Tell me you're in," she said. Before she had finished the sentence, lists of files began to scroll down the screen.

"I'm in," Dix said, already reaching for the external drive from his pack. He plugged it into a port, hit a few keys, and began downloading everything he could find.

"Fucking A," Gem said. "I'm ready to blow this joint. Literally."

"You and me both," Dix said, smiling.

Underneath the desk, a red light blinked steadily. No one noticed.

* * *

Alec took cover behind an old copy machine, checking the load in his weapon. White was close; he had to be, considering how close Alec had been when the Familiar had turned the corner into the hall. There was no way he could've made it to the double doors at the other end before Alec had come around the corner.

So White was close. So what? It didn't do him any good. He could be hiding anywhere, just waiting for a certain Transgenic to walk past so he could put a bullet in his brain.

Alec knew he couldn't stay here forever. Sooner or later, Mole was going to blow the place to kingdom come. He didn't want to be there when that happened.

"_Ames_…" he called out, his voice bordering on sing-songy. "I know you're out there."

Alec waited, straining to hear any sign of his quarry, but there was nothing. He cursed under his breath. He had to get White out into the open somehow, or at least get him to give away his general position. Unfortunately, as much as Alec hated the man, he knew that White was no fool. He wouldn't give up the tactical advantage lightly.

Then Alec grinned. White may not be stupid, but if he did have a weakness, it was his ego.

"Hey Ames!" Alec yelled down the hall, bracing himself to move at the slightest sound. "You sure you're not a Transgenic? Because I swear there's a little chicken in your DNA." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in, then yelled. "Why don't you come out here and fight me like a man?"

"I would if you _were_ a man," came the response from somewhere near the middle of the hall, off to the left. Alec rose from behind the copier just in time to see White lean around an open office door and open fire. Alec somersaulted and came up behind a stack of broken chairs—not the best cover, but it would do. He returned fire, emptying his clip in White's direction.

White cursed and ducked back into the office. He popped the clip out of his gun—his last—and checked the load. One bullet left. He had a single grenade in his pocket, which he'd slipped in when they'd found out the base was being assaulted, but that would hardly do him any good. He may have had a thousand years of selective breeding behind him, but his throwing arm wasn't up to even minor league standards of accuracy. Besides, the Transgenic would probably catch it and throw it back.

Fucking 494… he was relentless. Ames began to think that maybe now was not the best time for a showdown. He glanced toward the end of the hall; the doors were too far. He'd never make it. He looked back down the hall to where 494 waking taking cover.

There, on the wall. That would do.

White leaned out the door again. 494 must have heard him, because he rose up, his gun at ready. White fired, aiming not for the Transgenic, but the fire extinguisher on the wall.

It exploded, swallowing 494 in a cloud of smoke and shrapnel.

White ran.

* * *

Corporal Higgins kept his head up and his eyes straight ahead as he was escorted toward Terminal City's Command Central. He had brought two of his men with him as backup, but TC's leaders had sent _four_ Transgenics, all heavily armed, to escort them through the streets, and he had a sneaking suspicion that they were there for _his_ protection, not because they didn't trust him. Coupled with the way the Transgenics were actively scanning for threats, it made him nervous as hell.

When he finally made it to their Command hub, his eyes darted over the personnel, assigning names to faces. (He'd been boning up on TC personnel ever since that embarrassing incident with the Transgenics' top brass.) Strangely, he only recognized a couple of them. Most of the higher Command personnel seemed to be missing.

"Corporal," someone called out to him, and he turned to see a man approaching him. Higgins flipped through the memorized pages in his head. Wil—head of Internal Security. Zev, the red-head in charge of the border, was right behind him, as well as a pale-skinned transhuman. Dix? No, Luke.

"Wil," he said, and nodded to the others in greeting. "If you don't mind, I'll ignore the normal pleasantries. I would like to speak to Max."

"She's not available. And before you ask, neither is Alec or Mole or Dix, so why don't you just deal with me, okay?"

Higgins straightened his shoulders, trying not to show his discomfort. He didn't exactly have a lot of experience with diplomacy. "Fine. Let's get to it, then. We've been hearing strange noises all night coming from inside your borders. The snow has muffled the sound, but we're pretty sure it was gunfire. I heard it again on the way in, and I know now for a fact that it was gunfire. What the hell is going on here? Where are Max and Alec?"

"Fighting," Wil said, which was the truth... sort of. "We're under attack, Corporal. As part of our treaty with the United States government, I am officially granting you access to Terminal City and requesting your help to repel the enemy."

Higgins couldn't hide his shock. He'd thought the Transgenics were conducting live weapons drills, which was frowned upon but never officially forbidden. "What do you mean, you're under attack? Protesters haven't made any organized attempts in over six months…"

"It's not protesters," Zev interrupted. "It's Familiars."

"Who?" Now he was completely lost.

"They call themselves Familiars," Wil explained. "We don't have time to go into all of it, but basically, they are an organization of genetically enhanced humans that is out to take over your government and wipe us off the face of the earth."

"You've gotta be shitting me." Higgins flushed as soon as the words came out of his mouth. Hardly professional.

"I wish we were, Corporal. You heard the gunfire. This is very real. We are under attack, and we are officially requesting aid from the United States government."

"I…" Higgins stammered, "I'm not sure if I can make that decision."

"We don't have time to wait for you to get Flanagan on the line," Wil snapped angrily.

One of the soldiers Higgins brought with him put a hand on the butt of his gun. Wil took a moment to steady himself. He couldn't let this get out of hand. They had more important things to think about.

"_Please_," Wil pleaded. He waved a hand at the room around him. With TC being shorthanded, many of the Transgenics manning the stations were Six series or younger. "We've got children here."

Higgins glanced around the room, which was lit mostly by flashlights and a few battery powered lamps. A young girl near him, not much older than his niece Hannah, stood at a table with a radio to her ear, making notations on what appeared to be a casualty report.

A girl that age should be playing with dolls, not dealing with life and death.

Higgins pulled his radio from his belt. "Alpha base, this is Corporal Higgins. I want you to rally the troops and have them report, fully armed, to the TC gates. We'll meet you there. Terminal City is under attack, and we are offering the assistance of the United States Army. Copy?

There was a slight hesitation on the other end, then a voice crackled, _We copy, Corporal. Rallying the troops. Alpha base out._

Higgins snapped his radio back on his belt. "So," he asked, resigned to the course he had chosen. "What exactly are we dealing with, here?"

* * *

Max stopped suddenly in the middle of the hall, her heart pounding a mile a minute.

There it was. Gaines' lab. She'd found it.

A chill ran down her spine, and she shivered. When Joshua's hulking form moved into her peripheral vision, she jumped.

"Okay, Max?" Joshua asked.

"There," Max said hoarsely, pointing to the doors off to the left. "That's it."

"The lab?"

Max nodded. She was glued to the spot. Her brain knew she had to go in there, but her body resisted her with everything it had. It remembered what had happened in that room.

Joshua put a hand on Max's arm to steady her. She looked so pale, he was afraid she would pass out. "Come on," he said gently. "Need to take a look."

Max nodded, but she didn't move until Joshua physically steered her toward the doors. Thank God he was there. If he hadn't been, she was afraid that she might have run screaming in the opposite direction.

Joshua opened the doors and stepped inside the threshold, shotgun at ready, eyes quickly scanning the room for threats. Max stood in the doorway, stuck. Unable to move forward yet unwilling to turn away.

The room was dark. Of to the right, she caught a glimpse of something. A soft glow. The glint of shiny plastic.

The stasis chamber.

Max's breath caught in her throat. Her hands began to tremble.

She was afraid. Afraid to believe what Alec believed. Scared of what she might find. Terrified of what she might not.

"Joshua…could you…," Max croaked, and she had to stop and clear her throat. "Could you… wait outside for a minute?"

Joshua's eyes nervously scanned the empty room. It looked safe, but… He shook his head. "Don't think that's a good idea, Little Fella."

Max closed her eyes. A single tear traced its way down her cheek. "_Please_."

Joshua could see the turmoil Max was in. He didn't want her to face it alone, but knew that some things you _had_ to face on your own. "Okay," he said reluctantly, moving to stand beside her in the doorway. "Joshua will wait outside."

"Thank you," Max said gratefully.

She took two tentative steps forward. The doors closed behind her, making a whooshing sound that she'd heard so many times before, when someone had come to hurt her.

Drawing in a shaking breath, she slowly walked toward the glow.

* * *

Alec stumbled backwards, coughing and blinking rapidly as the smoke stung his eyes. There was a small piece of metal buried in his neck. Fortunately, it wasn't deep, and it had missed his carotid. He plucked it out, moving forward to get clear of the smoke. Up ahead, he spotted White running for the doors at the end of the hall.

Alec took off after him, raising his gun and firing at White's back. There was a small spray of blood as one of the bullets grazed the Familiar's arm. White didn't slow down, probably didn't even feel it. The Familiar shoved through the doors, slipping out of sight.

Alec picked up speed. _You can't get away that easily, Ames._

A couple of seconds later, Alec hit the doors at a full run. Instead of bursting through them his vision filled with stars, blinding him as his body went from full speed to a complete stop when it collided with the locked doors.

He bounced off of unforgiving steel and crashed to the ground. Pain radiated from the center of his body, pulsing outward. He groaned and began to push himself to his feet, shaking his head to try to clear his vision.

"Get up, stupid," he growled at his uncooperative body as he stumbled, arms and legs reluctant to obey his commands. "He's getting away."

By the time he got to his feet, his vision had cleared. Teeth bared and hands clenched into fists, he spun on his heel and landed a punishing kick against the doors. They shook, but didn't give.

"Dammit." He bent over and picked up his gun, which had clattered against the wall when he fell. He popped out the empty clip and angrily jammed in a new one. He moved back over to the door. Taking aim at the lock, he fired.

His eyes picked up the explosion a split second before the concussion hit him. His brain had a moment think, _Huh. Booby trap_. Then he was flying backwards, caught in a wash of heat and flame.

* * *

Max stood in front of the glowing chamber, eyes wide and brimming with tears.

At the base of the cylinder, a line spiked up and down. Steady. Sure. Floating inside—incredibly, amazingly whole—was a tiny body, no bigger than her palm, arms and legs tucked in against itself.

Their baby.

The scar across her stomach ached.

She reached out, stopping halfway, almost afraid that by touching the chamber she might make it disappear. She forced herself to take a step closer, and her fingertips touched the clear plastic. It was surprisingly warm. She trailed her fingertips down the surface of the chamber.

The corner of her mouth quirked in a ghost of a smile. "Hey," she whispered.

Maybe miracles did happen.

The silence was split by a loud clack behind her. She spun to find evil incarnate standing by the door in the form of Dr. Elizabeth Gaines. The woman's hand was still on the bolt that she had just slammed home, locking them both in and Joshua out. In her other hand was a gun, pointed directly at Max's chest.

Gaines smiled. "Welcome back, 452. I missed you."

* * *

A/N: That's right! The bitch is back!!!


	15. Ch 14: Choices

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: I am currently so hopped up on cold medicine that I can hardly put two coherent words together (thank you, Snowmageddon) so hopefully this chapter isn't a total disaster. If you notice any glaring grammatical errors or worse, plot holes, please let me know and I'll fix them.

Warning: Violence and language.

* * *

Chapter 14: Choices

_Previously…_

_The silence was split by a loud clack behind her. She spun to find evil incarnate standing by the door in the form of Dr. Elizabeth Gaines. The woman's hand was still on the bolt that she had just slammed home, locking them both in and Joshua out. In her other hand was a gun, pointed directly at Max's chest._

_Gaines smiled. "Welcome back, 452. I missed you."_

* * *

Max couldn't move. Fight and flight were engaged in a furious battle in her brain, neither getting the upper hand, leaving her feet rooted to the ground.

Gaines. God, why did it have to be _her_? Anyone else she could've faced without a problem—even White. Ames had at least had a goal when he'd questioned her; he wanted his kid. Dr. Elizabeth Gaines, on the other hand, had tortured her for the pure pleasure of it. She may have called it scientific research, but Max had recognized it for what it was; Gaines had tortured her because she liked it. The bitch was _evil_.

Every bruise, every ache, every cut that the doctor had given her throbbed painfully as her body remembered. She couldn't take her eyes off of the hands that had done that to her—hands that now tightly gripped a gun.

Max didn't realize that she had bitten through her bottom lip until she felt the trickle of warm blood down her chin.

She heard a loud noise, rhythmic and insistent. At first, she thought it was the beat of her own heart pounding in her ears, but then she realized it was Joshua. She could hear his frantic, muffled shouts as he banged on the door, trying to get in.

The gun aimed at her never wavered. "He won't get in, if that's what you're counting on," the doctor said condescendingly, as if she was talking to a foolish child that still believed in fairy tales. "No matter how strong he is. I had these doors reinforced to resist even Transgenic strength."

Max's hand shook as she reached up to wipe the blood from her chin with the back of her sleeve.

"You're just in time, you know," Gaines continued. She looked pleased with herself. "The Conclave has given me permission to override Ames White's objections and use the genetic material," she said with a nod toward the stasis chamber, "that you so kindly left me to complete my research. Ames had hoped we might be able to use it as a bargaining chip or some other nonsense, but the Conclave agreed that having the necessary specimen to perfect Purity far outweighs any other concerns."

"Of course, now that you're back, I need not limit myself to such a small amount of Transgenic material. Just think, 452… with your help, we will be able to wipe your filthy, degenerate race from the face of the earth."

Max's hands clenched into fists. Anger helped chase away the fear. "Fuck you."

Gaines chuckled. "Now, now. You know I'll make you pay for that kind of talk later. I would say we could get started right away, but I'm afraid we need a new venue; your friends have made this one a bit crowded. Fortunately, this lab used to be part of the building's storage facilities. There's a freight elevator in the back that we can use to get down to the service tunnels. I doubt we'll run into any company down there."

The doctor took a step closer to Max, eager to get to the business at hand. "You and I and my specimen over there are going on a little trip."

* * *

Ames White stepped through the smoking hole in the wall left by his grenade—casually, with his hands in his pockets as if he were out for an afternoon stroll. He calmly surveyed the damage. One of the doors had been blown clean off. The other hung by one hinge, bent and horribly twisted. A few small fires smoldered, already sputtering out.

And on the other side of that hole, blood and flesh and bits of bone—little pieces of 494, scattered everywhere. Sticking to the walls, the ceiling, pooling on the floor. Unrecognizable. Unsalvageable. Beaten at last.

At least, that was what Ames had been hoping to see. Instead, his foe lay several feet down the hall, blown backwards by the blast. Unfortunately intact, it seemed.

He cautiously moved closer to 494's body, scowling as he watched the Transgenic's chest slowly rise and fall. Damn it. Still breathing, and there was hardly any blood at all. Definitely nothing fatal.

The bastard really did have nine lives.

Ames would've put a bullet in the X5 if he'd had any left. Sadly, his gun was empty. There were several other, messier options he could've employed to finish it, but all of them would've involved getting a little too close to the Transgenic for comfort. He hadn't forgotten how he had faired the last time they had met; his slightly crooked nose reminded him every time he looked in the mirror.

Figuring that discretion, at least in this case, was indeed the better part of valor, Ames decided that it was high time he made his exit. Besides, there was another way he could take care of the situation.

Ames pulled out his cell phone, pausing a moment to nonchalantly wipe the blood off of his fingertips, which had trickled down from the bullet wound in his arm where 494 had shot him. He was sure that the Transgenics had planted explosives at key points around the building; they wouldn't have come all this way and in such great numbers if they hadn't planned on taking out the base. Their goal would be to get in, get as much info as they could, probably rescue 452 & 494's tadpole while they were at it, then get out and blow the place to hell.

Ames had no problem with that… with a little change to the timetable, of course.

He held down a number to speed dial. Hearing the hiss that indicated he'd made the connection, Ames punched in a long string of numbers that only he had been given. On the other end, he heard the sound of a triple beep, confirming the code he'd entered.

Smiling, he disconnected and slipped his phone back into his pocket. The clock was ticking, a lot faster than the Transgenics expected.

They weren't the only ones that could plant explosives.

Humming softly, he turned and walked back through the hole in the wall, leaving 494 to his fate.

* * *

Wil slipped silently through the streets, assault rifle at the ready. His eyes should've been scanning for the enemy, but they kept drifting back to Zev, who was ahead of him and to the right. She took point because her eyes, as she had so pointedly reminded him before they'd moved out, were a lot sharper than his.

He couldn't argue with her reasoning, but that didn't make him feel any better about the situation. She was a sitting duck out there. Especially with PF and his soldiers behind them making enough noise to wake the dead. Okay, they probably weren't making that much noise, but to Transgenic hearing, they sounded like a pack of elephants. Familiars didn't have enhanced hearing, did they? Maybe he should pull Zev back.

He was being stupid. Zev was a Manticore-trained soldier. She was better with a weapon than he was by a mile, and she had more than double his live combat experience. If she knew that he was worrying about her, she'd be the first to tell him he was being a complete idiot.

Still, he couldn't keep his eyes from drifting back to a pair of hastily tied red braids, peeking out from under a thick woolen cap.

Maybe that was what love did to you—made you an idiot.

Zev froze, and it brought his mind back to focus on the task at hand. She signaled them to take cover, and they all quickly moved against the side of the closest building. Zev took a quick glance around the corner, then turned back to them.

"Familiars. Eight of them. Headed this way."

PF—_Damn it_, Zev thought, _I have to quit thinking of him as PF_—moved past her to take a look. He lingered longer than he should have, squinting into the snow.

"I don't see anything," he whispered.

"That's because I have hawk DNA and you don't." She pulled him back by the back of his coat. "Trust me. They're there."

"We wait until they cross, then ambush," Wil said. Zev nodded her agreement.

"Wait a minute," Higgins said, keeping his voice low. "We didn't agree to ambush these guys. We're not at war, here."

"The hell we aren't," Zev said.

"The _United States Military_ is not at war," Higgins clarified insistently. "I didn't offer the army's assistance just so we could help you escalate this conflict. The proper steps need to be taken. Negotiation…"

Zev took a threatening step towards him. "You can't negotiate with Familiars!"

Wil, ever the peacemaker, put a hand on Zev's shoulder both to calm her and to hold her back if necessary. "They don't want peace with us, Corporal," he told Higgins. "They want us dead. Trust me… they won't take kindly to you getting in the way."

Higgins looked skeptical. "I seriously doubt they're willing to attack the United States army."

Wil stared Higgins down, but the man refused to budge. Abruptly, Wil stepped back, a casual smile on his face. "Have it your way."

Zev gave Wil a wide-eyed _Are you crazy? _look_. _Wil shrugged. What else could they do? Higgins wasn't going to let his soldiers open fire, even on armed infiltrators, without firsthand proof of their intent.

Higgins signaled everyone to stand by. They waited in silence until the Familiars had entered the intersection, then Higgins stepped forward, gun trained on the intruders.

"Drop your weapons!" he yelled. "You have illegally entered a restricted zone and are ordered to stand down in the name of the US government!"

Their response was not what Higgins had expected. It was, however, what Wil had expected. When the Familiars opened fire, he yanked Higgins backward to safety. Zev and the other soldiers returned fire while Wil squatted down next to the now pale Corporal Higgins.

"Nice try," he said, only mildly sarcastic. It would've been nice if Higgins had been right. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Want to do it our way now?"

Higgins swallowed hard and nodded, shaken.

* * *

Gaines motioned with the gun toward the back of the room. "Turn around," she ordered.

Max quickly weighed her options. Should she play along and look for an opportunity to gain the upper hand, or should she make a stand and hope that Gaines didn't shoot her?

She looked into Gaines eyes. That was all it took for her to make up her mind. No way was she turning her back on that bitch.

"No," Max said with a defiant lift of her chin.

The doctor looked taken aback. "_No_?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

"You seem to forget that I'm the one holding the gun, 452. I'm sure you are aware that I don't have any qualms about shooting you."

Max shrugged. "What's the difference? Kill me now, kill me later—the end result is the same. You know it, and I know it, so let's stop kidding ourselves." Max took a step toward the doctor. Gaines hadn't been expecting that. She tightened her grip on her gun, and Max detected a hint of fear in the woman's eyes. _Good_.

"I'd rather die than be your lab rat again, bitch," Max continued, taking another step, "and that's the straight up truth. So if you're going to shoot me, _shoot_ _me _already, 'cause I'm tired of hearing your gums flap."

The doctor's face flared red with anger. "Fine," she said. "You may not care about what happens to you, but I'm sure you'll care about…" She began to shift the gun, aiming toward the stasis chamber off to the side of the room.

She didn't get to finish her sentence.

As soon as the muzzle of the gun cleared her body, Max blurred and crashed into the doctor, grabbing for her arm. The gun went off, bullet pinging harmlessly off of the stainless steel top of the stasis chamber.

The two women grappled over the gun. What Gaines lacked in speed, she made up for in strength and sheer resistance to pain. Max shoved hard and slammed Gaines into the wall. Holding tightly to the wrist that held the gun, Max smashed the doctor's hand four times before she finally lost her grip on the weapon. It clattered to the floor. Max turned and kicked it away into the shadows.

Elizabeth Gaines may have been a doctor (in the loosest sense of the term) and a scientist, but she was also a Familiar. She would not go down without a fight, and unfortunately for Max, the woman had intimate knowledge of every healing wound on the X5's body.

Gaines punched low, ramming her fist into Max's gut, right over the scar on her abdomen. Pain lanced through Max, white hot and agonizing. She buckled, gagging on the bile that rose in her throat. Gaines locked her hands together and brought them down between Max's shoulder blades, knocking her to the ground.

Max's eyes rolled in her head as she tried to get them to focus. She had to, or she was dead. Her vision cleared just in time to see Gaines about to crush her skull with the thick heel of her ever-sensible shoes.

As the foot came down, Max rolled forward into Gaines and reached up at the same time, grabbing the woman's foot and twisting hard. Something snapped. Off balance, Gaines fell over Max and crashed to the ground.

The doctor raised her head. From her vantage point, she spotted a glint of metal across the room, underneath one of the workbenches.

The gun.

Gaines scrambled after it.

* * *

At the edge of the woods, a trio of X6s hid among the trees, staring across the clearing with identical looks of anxiety on their faces.

Troops moved through the swirling snow. They must have come from a hidden barracks somewhere, or a small access road that they'd missed. Who knew? It didn't matter where they came from; all that mattered was that they were there. There had to be at least thirty of them.

Oscar was the first to react. "We've got to warn attack force inside," he said, pulling out his radio. A second later, they heard the soft hiss of static. Oscar tried switching to another channel, but he got more of the same. He looked up, eyes wide. "The radio's not working."

"They're jamming us," Kazi said. "Why are they jamming us _now_? Why not earlier?"

"Maybe they didn't think they needed to earlier," Dalton offered.

"Or _maybe_ they were luring us into a false sense of security," Oscar groaned.

"You think it's a trap?" Dalton asked, looking off toward the building, a blurry outline in the snow.

"You're saying somebody sold us out," Kazi said flatly. She could hardly even imagine the possibility of one of their own turning against them.

"I'm not sayin' anything," Oscar said. "All I know is that this is not good."

"We've got to do something," Kazi said, taking a step into the clearing. Oscar quickly pulled her back.

"Stop," he hissed. "They'll see you."

She pulled her arm from his hand. "I _know_," she said pointedly.

"Wait," Dalton said, moving beside her. "You want us to attack them? The three of us? By ourselves?"

"No," Oscar interjected before Kazi could answer. "No way. We are not even talking about attacking them. That's insane!"

Dalton rubbed the back of his neck as his brain began to run through possible scenarios. "I don't know. She may be on to something here. We should think about this."

Oscar couldn't believe it. The pair of them were bound and determined to get them all killed. "We're outnumbered ten to one!"

"We've handled odds like that before," Dalton countered.

"Guys…" Kazi tried to break in. They ignored her.

"Against Ordinaries! These are _Familiars_."

"They're going to flank our people inside. You want us to stand around and do nothing?"

"We could distract them," Kazi offered, but it was as if she wasn't even there.

Oscar's face was turning a bright shade of red. "Us getting dead isn't going to be much help."

"Attack and run," Kazi muttered, already realizing the futility of trying to break into the argument. "Try to lead them off."

"If you would quit being such a pussy for half a minute so we could come up with a plan…"

"I am _not_ a pussy!"

Kazi stood there as the two of them argued, head moving back and forth as if she were watching a tennis match. After about twenty seconds, she was fed up. It was time to take matters into her own hands.

She turned and walked away from them, stepping out into the clearing. With a shrug and a little twist, her grenade launcher slipped from where it was slung across her back into her hands. Without preamble, she planted her feet, chambered a round, and fired.

The explosion tore through the back of the Familiar lines. Behind her, Dalton and Oscar turned, eyes wide and mouths hanging open. Then they were running forward until they stood on either side of her, surveying the damage she had done.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Dalton blurted. He could hardly believe she'd done it, and he'd been standing right there.

The Familiars turned and spotted them.

Kazi began to backpedal. "Running," she said. Then she turned and did just that.

Dalton and Oscar both hesitated long enough to curse viciously before they took off after her, bullets already whizzing past their heads.

* * *

Wil and Zev led the pack as they chased after the Familiars. Because of the snow, they couldn't blur safely, so the army men behind them were mostly able to keep up with them.

Up ahead, the Familiars hit an intersection and broke into two groups, heading in opposite directions.

"Take left!" Zev yelled, already veering off toward her right.

Wil cursed. He had no choice but to go with it. Behind him, he heard Higgins giving his men orders, sending half of them after Zev while he and the other half followed Wil.

_Be safe, Zev_, he thought as he ran in the opposite direction.

* * *

Someone had planted a house on top of him. That had to be it. Why else wouldn't he be able to move? Lying flat on his back like the Wicked Witch of the East. Any second, Ames White would show up and steal his boots, pull a Dorothy, and click his way home.

An image of Ames in blue and white gingham, pigtails, and combat boots jerked Alec's mind back to consciousness. He groaned and tried to sit up, only to fail miserably. Instead, he rolled over on his stomach, eventually managing to push himself to his hands and knees. He noticed his pant leg was smoldering, and he clumsily patted it out.

Shoving himself up, he managed to sit back on his heels. He paused a moment to take stock. Yep—still in one piece. White had miscalculated. The metal doors were so thick, they had deflected most of the blast to either side. He turned and looked at the gaping hole in the wall.

Damn. He was lucky to be alive.

His skin felt hot, like a bad sunburn. He reached up—his hair and eyebrows were singed. The back of his head felt funny. He moved his hand around and skimmed it over his hair. It was wet. When he pulled his hand back, it was red with blood.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the throbbing pain. He'd cracked his skull once before, back in his Manticore days, and it didn't feel like that, thank God, but he was betting that he had a mild concussion at the least.

He opened his eyes and looked past where the doors had been to the hall beyond. There was no sign of White. He'd lost him.

"Damn it," he said, weakly pounding his fist against his thigh in frustration.

Alec struggled to his feet. His head spun, and he had to put a hand on the wall to steady himself. He waited a few seconds until it settled, then looked for his gun.

He spotted it across the hall, partially hidden under a chunk of debris. He picked it up, worked the action, then held it down at his side. He straightened his shoulders, ignoring the burn of aching muscles, and walked tiredly through the door after White.

* * *

Dix watched progress of file transfer, the fingers of one hand drumming against the desktop. 32 %—there was a lot of stuff.

It had been quiet in the hall for a while. It made him nervous. Why the hell were the Familiars suddenly leaving them alone? It didn't make any sense.

He stared at the screen, willing the transfer bar to move faster. He wanted this over and done with.

The red light under the desk continued to flash, faster.

* * *

They had them trapped.

Wil had been counting on the Familiars only being marginally familiar with TC's layout. He and his group had managed to herd the pack they were chasing into a dead end alley.

The Familiars, seeing that they were out of options, turned and charged them.

A particularly thick-necked specimen was coming straight at Corporal Higgins. Having learned his lesson, the soldier fired, landing two solid rounds to the chest. The Familiar stumbled, but kept coming. How the hell could he keep coming? Those were armor-piercing rounds.

He didn't realize he'd frozen up until Wil stepped up beside him and fired, putting a bullet in the enemy's head before the Familiar could fire his own weapon.

Higgins looked down at the body, shocked. "How could he keep coming? I put two bullets in him."

"They don't feel pain," Wil told him.

"How is that possible?"

"I'll explain later. Right now, all you need to know is that they're the bad guys."

Higgins ducked as a bullet whizzed past his head. "Right."

* * *

She was getting away. Going for the gun.

Max gagged as she struggled to her knees. She had to get up. Fight. She couldn't let Gaines get the upper hand. No way was she letting that bitch have control of her ever again.

Max pushed herself to her feet and stumbled after Gaines. Every ache, every stab of pain was a reminder of what the woman had done to her. Instead of pushing it aside, she let herself feel it, using it to fuel her hatred.

Adrenalin surged through her as she reached down and grabbed Gaines by the hair. She yanked her up off of the ground and spun her around into the wall. Gaines pushed away and came at her, fists swinging. Duck, block, dodge—Gaines was faster than Max had expected, but not fast enough. Max managed to get through the doctor's guard virtually every time, while Gaines couldn't even land a blow.

Max could've knocked the bitch out cold in one blow, but she was toying with her—pulling her punches so they did the most damage without incapacitating. Quid pro quo.

Frustrated and bloody, Gaines grabbed a stool and swung it at Max. The X5 ducked. Looked like it was time to stop screwing around.

Max grabbed a clipboard off of the closest table—the very clipboard that the doctor had used to document Max's suffering—and jabbed it into Gaines' neck. Gaines gagged and dropped the stool, hand going to her throat. Before she could recover, Max landed a high kick right in the center of the woman's chest. The doctor flew back against the wall.

Max flipped the clipboard long-ways and rammed it right into Gaines' neck. The woman got her hands up just in time to avoid beheading. Max put her weight into it, shoving up and in until Gaines' feet came off the floor. The doctor made little choking sounds as the clipboard dug deeper into her neck.

Max smiled, teeth bared. "Told you I'd kill you with this fucking clipboard."

Gaines' face was turning a dark shade of red. Her eyes began to bulge as her struggles weakened. Max looked into to the eyes of the woman who had made her life a living hell and watched her begin to fade.

She was going to kill her. She was going to take Elizabeth Gaines' life with her bare hands.

She was going to become the weapon Manticore had made her to be… not because she had to, but because she _wanted_ to.

Max dropped the clipboard and backed away. Gaines crumpled to the ground, coughing and gasping for breath.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't go against everything she had come to believe, even now, after everything that had happened.

Max stared down at Gaines, trembling slightly from the massive amount of adrenalin coursing through her. "Do yourself a favor, bitch," she said coldly. "Don't get up."

Max turned her back on the woman. She had more important things to do, like grabbing her baby and getting the hell out of this place.

Behind her, she heard Gaines drag herself to her feet. There was a tink of metal as the doctor grabbed something from a nearby cart—probably a scalpel or some other sharp instrument of torture Gaines had favored.

Max stopped, but she didn't turn around. She shook her head. "You should've listened."

Gaines was done, and Max knew it. She spun and kicked, landing a blow to the doctor's head. The woman flew backwards, crashing into a storage cabinet full of vials and beakers. The glass doors shattered, and she fell to the floor, the contents of the cabinet tumbling down on her and breaking. Colorful liquid bled across the floor, the smell so strong it burnt Max's nose.

Max reached the stasis chamber. She ran her hands over it, looking around the sides to try to figure out how to unhook it. The base looked like it had a kind of battery pack or something. An indicator on the bottom showed a full charge. A line steadily bounced up and down, indicating a heartbeat.

A bullet struck the wall right behind her head. Max turned. Gaines had somehow managed to get to her feet, though she didn't look like she'd be there for long. The gun was in her hands, but she was swaying so badly it looked like she'd fall over any second.

Max yanked a plug from the back of the chamber and pulled the unit off of the counter. She ran for the doors, ducking as Gaines fired wildly. A bullet ricocheted into a computer bank, sending sparks everywhere.

In an instant, the floor was aflame. Whatever liquid that had spilled was highly flammable, and Gaines was covered in it. In the space of one heartbeat and the next, she was on fire.

Max paused at the door with her heavy burden, looking back. Gaines twisted and turned, struggling in vain to quench the flames. Her high-pitched screams pierced Max's eardrums.

There was no saving her from that. She was beyond saving.

Max hoped it really was the truth and not just what she wanted to believe.

She yanked the bolt holding the doors closed and kicked them open. She practically ran into Joshua, who froze in shock, the office chair that had been his battering ram over his shoulder. Max kicked the doors shut again, hoping they were fireproof. The doors and the walls around it were covered in scratches and dents from Joshua's efforts to break in.

Her friend dropped the chair and surged forward, grabbing her up, the stasis chamber trapped between them.

"Josh," Max managed to squeak out under his crushing grip. "Need to breathe."

The transhuman immediately released her, patting her down as if he needed to physically verify she was okay. "Sorry. Sorry, Little Fella." It was only then that he noticed what Max was holding. He got down on one knee and looked in wonder at the small being inside. He touched the plastic gently. "_Littlest Fella_," he whispered in awe.

Max blinked, eyes burning. The smoke must be getting to her.

"Can you carry this for me?" she asked, offering him the chamber. She'd popped some stitches in her abdomen in her fight against Gaines and was afraid that the weight of the chamber would pop a few more. She couldn't afford to lose any more blood, and frankly, she was spent.

Joshua took the chamber reverently. He understood the weight of the task he had been given. "Joshua will keep Littlest Fella safe."

Max smiled—her first real, heartfelt smile in what seemed like forever. "Let's blaze."

* * *

Zev cursed as the group of Familiars they were chasing hung a left. She skidded to a halt, causing the men behind her to curse softly and put on the brakes. "I think I know where they're going," she explained.

Thanks to Manticore's breeding program, as well as more consensual means of conception, Terminal City had a decent number of children that needed looking after. Because of the crazy shifts people worked, they had a 24-hour facility, staffed by a few older Transgenics and a handful of X8s. At any given time, there were at least fifteen to twenty kids in that building, if you counted the X8s.

The Familiars were heading right for it, and she didn't think it was a coincidence.

"Where?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Childcare facility," she said grimly. She waved them down the alley to her right. "We need to head them off, or we'll have a hostage crisis on our hands… or worse."

They ran. Sensing the urgency of the situation, the soldiers did their best to keep up with Zev, but she quickly began to outpace them. She burst out of the alley at full speed just as the Familiar's were closing in on the building. She tried to stop, but her feet skidded in the snow and she landed on her side. She opened fire as she slid through the snow, more to keep the Familiars from advancing than anything else.

She came to a stop and rolled to her feet, running for the door to the center. An X8 stood in the door, wide-eyed. "Get inside!" she yelled at him, waving him back. She reached the door then turned and crouched, offering covering fire for the soldiers who were finally making it out of the alley.

The Familiars opened fire on the army men, planning to pick them apart from the weakest link up. "Move your asses!" she yelled at them, opening up her rifle on full auto.

One of the soldiers went down fifteen feet from the door. The man beside him tried to pull him up and got a bullet in the shoulder for his efforts. Zev didn't blame him for it—Transgenics weren't the only ones that believed in no man left behind.

"Get inside and cover me!" she yelled at the wounded soldier as she ran back out into the snow. "I'll get him!"

She dragged the man with one hand so that she'd have a free hand to fire. She was almost inside the door when a sharp pain stabbed through her leg. She stumbled and landed on her ass. Blood blossomed on her thigh.

Two soldiers rushed out and pulled Zev and their fallen comrade inside. One of the Transgenics on duty at the center covered them.

Once they were all inside, they slammed the door shut; bullets thunked into it from the other side. Glass shattered as a few rounds hit the window.

Matthew—one of the X8s working at the Center—sank down next to Zev with a med kit and began to wrap a pressure bandage over her leg while the remaining uninjured army man returned fire. Zev changed the magazine in her weapon while the kid worked.

"I want you to keep all of the little ones in the back," she told him. "Keep down and keep them quiet. Watch the rear to make sure they don't try to flank. Give a shout if you run into trouble."

Little Matthew nodded and finished tying the bandage, pulling it tight and making Zev wince. "I'll watch out for 'em," he said in his pre-adolescent voice.

"Good," she said, patting his shoulder. "Go now."

Zev used the wall to help shove herself up off of the ground. She hobbled over to stand next to the windows, risking a quick peek out. The Familiars had taken up residence across the street behind some old cars. It would be almost impossible to pick them off from that angle, and she was in no shape to take up a better position.

"What's the ammo situation?" she asked the soldier at the window—Klaassen, she saw, looking down at the name printed over his chest. She hadn't even asked his name.

"Not good," he said grimly.

"Damn," she whispered. She closed her eyes and silently counted to ten, taking deep breaths. She could hear the soft noises from the little ones in the back as Matthew tried to keep them quiet. All of those lives, barely even begun—their fate was in her hands.

She wasn't going to let them down.

* * *

Wil waited, standing guard while Corporal Higgins stood bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath, his rifle propped against the wall. A pair of Familiars had come at them from behind, so they'd been forced to split up, Higgins men sticking with the group they had pinned down and he and the Corporal going after the others. They'd run through the snow for a while, weaving in and out of streets and alleys until they'd finally managed to pick them off. Higgins had done his best to keep up, but it had cost him, and he was left gasping for breath. Wil had been afraid for a moment that he'd pass out.

"You all right?" he asked quietly, keeping an eye on the street.

Higgins nodded and held up a hand, begging for a moment. Finally, he was able to straighten. "Sorry," he said, still breathing a little heavy. "I know this is probably cake for you."

Wil shook his head. "Getting shot at is never cake. Besides, we appreciate any help we can get."

Higgins smiled a little. "Thanks for not leaving me behind. I know the military really hasn't done you guys any favors."

Wil turned his head to look Higgins in the eye. "You're doing us a favor now."

_Wil, come in. This is Luke. Damn it, pick up!_

Wil snatched his radio off his belt, worried about the panic in Luke's voice. "This is Wil. Go."

_I just got a distress call from Zev. Her group is pinned down, and they're running out of ammo. They have some casualties._

Wil felt a painful tightening in his chest. He didn't want to ask—knew that he shouldn't, because he was afraid of the answer—but he couldn't stop himself. "Is she okay?"

_Took a hit in the leg. Not life-threatening_, Luke added quickly, _but she's lost a lot of mobility. She's requesting backup, ASAP._

Wil's grip on the radio tightened until the plastic began to groan. "Location," he snapped.

_The Childcare Center._

"They're attacking a Childcare Center?" Higgins said in shock. He was beginning to believe the Transgenics weren't exaggerating about how bad these Familiars were.

"We're a couple of minutes from there, but our group split. We're down to two," Wil replied into the radio. There was nothing more he wanted to do than to get to Zev, but he knew he had to be smart about it. "Anyone else closer?"

_Negative. Everyone else I can locate is the other side of the city or already pinned down. You're it._

"Copy that. We're on it. Out." Wil hooked the radio back on his belt and turned back to Higgins. He focused on keeping his breathing even so he wouldn't panic. "You up for this?" He really needed the man's help, but he could afford to be slowed down too much if Higgins couldn't hack it.

Higgins picked up his rifle. "Lead the way."

* * *

Alec was lost. He'd gotten turned around somehow—damn concussion must've been worse than he thought—and had ended up back where he started. He rested next to the gaping hole in the wall, head bowed and eyes staring listlessly at the floor.

Wait a minute. What that blood?

He was an idiot. Why hadn't he seen it before? He'd clipped White in the arm; the Familiar may not have felt the pain, but he'd bleed like anybody else. He could've been following the blood trail the whole time.

He was about to step through the opening when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, down at the other end of the hall.

Alec had his gun out before his eyes had finished focusing on the target. Once his vision zoomed in, he immediately took his finger off the trigger. "Max?" he called out quietly.

The figures at the far end of the hall stopped and turned. It _was_ Max. "Alec?" she said in answer. She took a step toward him.

Uh oh. Bad idea. If Max saw the blasted doors, she'd put two and two together, and he didn't really want her to do that right now. She was probably already mad enough at him for running off. She'd be pissed if she knew he'd almost gotten himself killed.

He blurred down the long hall, hoping she wouldn't notice the debris behind him. When he reached her she leaped into his arms, her own wrapped tightly around his neck.

"You're still alive," she breathed, the words muffled against his neck. He barely had a chance to hug her back before she was shoving him away. Somehow, she managed to cry and glare at the same time. "You idiot!"

"What did you expect me to do?" he asked, holding up his hands, automatically moving into defensive mode. "He was right there. I couldn't let the opportunity... Hey!" he exclaimed, cutting off his own thoughts. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, looking over the new bruises and cuts. "What happened to you?"

Max pulled herself free and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring up at him. "I could ask you the same question," she said, pointedly looking up at his singed hair and soot-streaked face.

Alec's mouth snapped shut. Both of them stood there, staring at each other.

"How about we save this conversation for later?" Alec offered, deadpan.

"Deal," Max nodded, holding out her hand. He shook it, and as simple as that, the subject was dropped. Both parties fully understood that a full-fledged argument would happen once they were all safe and sound back in TC.

Alec turned to Joshua—who been patiently standing by letting them have their little reunion—planning to look over his big friend for injuries when he finally noticed what the transhuman was holding.

Alec froze. He opened his mouth to speak, but the air had left his lungs. It took a second before he remembered to breathe in.

"Is that…?" he asked, his throat closing up on him before he could finish the sentence. Max nodded, afraid her own voice might fail her.

Joshua held out the chamber to his friend. "Alec was right to believe."

The X5 took it gently, as if it were made of delicate china instead of thick, clear plastic and metal. He gazed down on the tiny life inside, a look of utter amazement on his face.

"Wow," Alec whispered.

Max felt tears threatening, and she hastily wiped them away. She could fall apart later. What she wanted to do at that moment was get them all the hell out of there. She put a hand on Alec's shoulder, breaking the spell.

"Come on, babe. We gotta go."

His face crumpled, wonder replaced by so many conflicting emotion that she couldn't make them out. Bowing his head, he handed the chamber back to Joshua. "I can't."

Max drew her head back. "What do you mean, you_ can't_? We got what we came for."

Alec began to back away. "Not everything."

She reached out and grabbed his shirt, desperate to stop him. There was only one other thing that Alec wanted, and she couldn't let him have it. The cost was too high.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Absolutely not. You're not going after him. Not again."

Alec put his hands over Max's. "I have to, Maxie."

"No, there is no _have to_." Max tightened her grip on him, pulling him closer. Even though she still had a hold on him, she could already feel him slipping away. "You _promised_. You promised you wouldn't leave me."

It hurt—the accusation in her eyes—but he couldn't let it sway him. He had to finish it. If he didn't finish it, they'd never be safe.

"I'm sorry," Alec said, refusing to look away from that accusation as he carefully pried her fingers from his shirt. Once free, he took a step backwards, then another. Heart pounding, he turned his back on her and began to walk away.

Max watched his retreating back, stunned. He was really going to do it? He was really going to leave her, the baby… risk everything, for revenge?

Alec kept walking.

Oh my God. He _was_.

_That… _she was so angry, she couldn't think of a word terrible enough to call him. How could he? After all they'd been through together, he was going to throw it all away? Just when there was a chance that they could have a real family? Did what they have together mean so little to him?

Her anger boiled over and erupted.

"If you do this, Alec, we are through!" she yelled at his back, eyes flashing. "You hear me? We are _through_!"

* * *

A/N: Reviews are always appreciated.


	16. Ch 15: Murphy's Law

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: I know, I know... it's been too long again, hasn't it? What can I say? Real life fails to cooperate with my writing needs. I will not abandon this story, so have no fears about that. It just might take me a while to finally reach the finish. I imagine I may have lost some people along the way, so thanks to all of you who have patiently (and maybe not so patiently) hung in there with me. You guys are awesome. I will try to make it worth the wait.

Warning: Language, violence, bloodshed, possibly the kitchen sink.

* * *

Chapter 15: Murphy's Law

_Anything that can go wrong will go wrong._

"If you do this, Alec, we are through!"

He stopped in his tracks, his back still to her. She'd finally said it. The words a small part of him had been half-expecting to hear since the day she'd kissed him senseless on the couch in her office. The same part of him that never really believed he was good enough for her.

"You hear me? We are through!"

Her words struck a dissonant chord, reverberating inside of him. Everything—his entire life, his future—hinged upon this one moment. This one decision.

He could stay. Keep his promise. He could be there for her, their child, their people. Be the man and leader he knew he could be, the man they all needed him to be. Build a life worth living.

He could stay... and wait for that life to be torn away, ripped from him by Ames White. Because Ames White wouldn't stop. He would never stop. Alec understood this, even if Max did not. None of them would be safe as long as White's black heart still beat. They would spend their lives looking over their shoulders, constantly living in fear, waiting for that moment when White would strike again.

He was tired of living with fear as a constant companion. He'd had enough of that in his life.

Alec's aching head pulsed in time to the beat of his heart. He could practically feel the waves of anger radiating off of Max as she waited for him to make his choice.

Right. As if he had one.

He turned around, reaching inside of his shirt, fingers closing around warm circles of metal. As he walked back to her he pulled, breaking the cord that hung around his neck. He grabbed Max's closed fist and pulled it to him, forcing what he held into her palm and closing her fingers back over it. He squeezed once, hard.

"I hope you don't mean that, Maxie," he said as he looked down into her dark eyes, begging her to understand. What he saw was shock, then hurt, and he had to look away. He turned to Joshua. "Remember your promise," he said, his voice thick.

And then he was gone, blurring into shadows that swallowed him up.

* * *

Max blinked. He'd left her.

He fucking _left_.

Her fists clenched tighter, and it was only then that her brain registered that something was digging into her palm. Alec had given her something. She'd been so mad at him, she hadn't even realized it.

She slowly opened her hand.

Light glinted off of two rings, perfect shining circles held together by a bootlace. Etched on the inside curve was a figure eight on its side. The symbol for infinity.

Forever.

Her hand trembled as she looked down at the rings, their meaning sinking in, heavy and undeniable.

This was what Alec was fighting for. Not revenge. _This_.

She'd been wrong about him… like always. Even after all this time, she still jumped to the wrong conclusion, still looked for the ulterior motive, the glass half-empty. Time and time again he'd proven that she could trust him, and every time she'd swore to herself that she would give him that trust, but she never had… not completely. Not without question.

And now it was too late. They'd run out of chances. Forever had been within her grasp, and she'd let it slip away.

Her fist closed over the rings, grinding them painfully into her flesh.

"Alec, wait!" she yelled. She'd taken only two steps down the hall after him when a pair of arms grabbed her around the waist from behind, lifting her off of her feet. The same pair of arms that had grabbed her long ago, keeping her from a bleeding, dying Alec with two bullets in his chest.

Max struggled frantically, tugging at Joshua's arms. "Get off me!" she grunted, her face turning red with effort. "I have to go after him!"

"And do what?!" Joshua yelled, surprised at how hard it was to keep hold of her.

What _was_ she going to do? Stop him? Join him? "I don't know!" Max answered honestly. "I have to do something!"

"Can't let you," Joshua said, though it sounded as if it cost him to say it. Max struggled so hard that it brought the transhuman to his knees, taking her with him. "Promised," he panted, still fighting to hold her.

"I don't care what you promised!" She had to go now, before she lost him… in more ways than one. She screamed in frustration and tugged again. "Let me go!"

"No!" Joshua yelled, tightening his arms as much as he dared. "Promised Alec. Promised to keep Max and baby safe, no matter what. Joshua will _not_ break his promise!"

The dog man yanked her back, turning her away from the hall where Alec had disappeared. Max's eyes fell on the stasis chamber, sitting on the floor where Joshua had set it aside so he could grab her. A tiny life floated there, so fragile, patiently waiting.

Joshua wouldn't be able to protect that tiny life on his own. If she asked him carry the chamber out of there, he wouldn't be able to handle his shotgun. She would be leaving Joshua defenseless and her baby unprotected.

Max's frustrated cry sputtered out, her body sagging with defeat. Once again, Alec had forced her into a choice that was not a choice. They both knew she had only one option.

After a moment, Joshua's arms cautiously loosened. He backed away a little, watching her warily, but he needn't have bothered. She knew what she had to do.

Max slowly got to her feet. She bent over and picked up the chamber, the muscles of her face tightening as the weight pulled at her scar. Joshua went to take it, but she shook her head. "You need to cover us," she said, avoiding his eyes.

Holding the chamber tight against her chest, Max turned in the opposite direction Alec had gone. Turned her back on him, not because she wanted to—though she was still pissed enough to consider it—but because he'd left her no choice. "Let's find a way out of this hell hole," she said with resigned acceptance.

They moved down the hall until they'd found a stairwell leading up. Joshua went first, making sure it was clear before waving her up.

Max paused at the entry to the stairwell, turning her head to look down the now empty hall. "Kick his ass, Alec," she said under her breath—part wish, part prayer.

* * *

Mole cursed as the ground rocked under him, causing his hand to slip… not the best thing when you were rigging explosives.

"What the hell was that?" he growled around his cigar, calling out to anyone in the vicinity.

From behind him, someone called out, "Not us."

Mole cursed again and spat out his cigar, which said more about how worried he was about the situation than if he had started pacing and wringing his hands. "Huh. Guess the Familiars are going to make it easy for us," he said. Only Alec, Dix, and maybe Luke, would've been able to tell that he wasn't as nonchalant as he sounded.

He instructed his group to set the last of charges. There was no point in worrying about what the Familiars might already have in place. If the Meat Necks decided to blow them all to Hell, there wasn't much they could do about it. Arming the last device, he glanced down at his watch. Surprisingly, considering the resistance they'd met, they were only fifteen minutes behind schedule. All teams should already be heading for the exits.

"Let's get out of here before the whole place comes down," he said.

* * *

It didn't take him long to find the blood trail again. He focused on the red droplets, forcing himself to see only them, think only of where they led. Keep his mind on the task at hand.

He followed the trail up to the main level. He moved fast, forgoing caution in favor of speed. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he was running out of time.

He slipped through a sort of airlock type thing into a vast room. He knew from memorizing the building layout that he was in what had been the main processing room of the plant. Large circular tanks four times as high as he was filled the room, cutting off his line of sight. White's bleeding had slowed, because the spots of blood had become increasingly spaced out. If he didn't find him soon, there was a good chance he never would.

For once, luck seemed to be on his side.

He slipped around the side of one of the large tanks and spotted him. White was standing with his back turned to Alec, issuing orders in sharp, low tones to another Familiar. The other guy handed White something, and Alec could tell from White's movements that he was reloading his gun.

Alec raised his own weapon, aiming for the middle of White's back, right in between the shoulder blades. One shot and it would be over.

One shot in the back.

He hesitated for only the briefest of seconds, his somewhat questionable and sporadic sense of honor choosing that moment, of all times, to rear its ugly head. Angry at his own hesitation, he told his sense of honor to go fuck itself and pulled the trigger.

Too late—the other Familiar spotted him. "Look out!" the man yelled and pulled White out of the way. He took a bullet to the chest for his trouble. Showing little concern for his fallen comrade, White spun around, firing as he dove for cover.

Alec ducked, eyes wincing shut as the bullets missed him and hit a panel of gages above him, peppering him with shards of metal and glass. He blurred to the left, sliding in behind a large pipe. He leaned out and returned fire, concentrating so hard that his teeth ground together. He and White fired round after round at each other, neither of them willing to stop until their guns clicked empty.

White took off running, quickly disappearing around the curve of one of the water treatment tanks. Alec cursed, reaching into his pocket for another clip as he raced after him. It was his last. _Better make it count_, he thought as he slammed it home.

Alec skidded to a halt in the intersection between the large tanks. He spun around wildly, scanning for White, heart pounding.

There. Above him. He jerked his head toward the noise and saw White scrambling up a ladder toward an observation catwalk that crisscrossed the room. Alec raised his gun and fired two rounds before he remembered that he needed to conserve; the bullets pinged wildly off of the safety cage around the ladder. He growled in frustration, angry at himself for his own stupidity, and scrambled up the ladder after White.

He reached the top and moved onto the catwalk, gun raising and taking aim. A good ways ahead of him, White stopped and turned. He was smiling, as though pleased with himself.

_We'll see if you're still smiling when I put a bullet in your smug face, you bastard. _

Alec's finger was a split second from squeezing the trigger when White brought his foot up and slammed it back down hard, right on a rusted out joint where two sections of the catwalk connected.

There was a crack and a screech of metal. The section of catwalk Alec was standing on tilted wildly to the right as one side broke free. He fell to his right, crashing hard against the guard rail. His gun flew out of his hand, tumbling into the darkness of the tank below. His weight caused the catwalk to tilt further, and he pushed himself back, leaning toward the other side to try to keep it steady.

Wrapping an arm around the guard rail, Alec looked up to see White smirking at him. The Familiar waved at jaunty little salute at the X5, then turned his back and jogged away.

"Son of a bitch," Alec muttered under his breath as he scrambled across the twisted catwalk, hoping that the added motion wouldn't bring the whole thing down. As he moved, he could see the remaining joint twist, weaken, as the catwalk shook underneath him. _Don't fall, _he willed it_. Not yet._

He was still a good fifteen feet away from safety when he felt it go. He jumped, throwing himself forward. His upper body hit the other section of catwalk, but his legs hit nothing but empty air. They swung down, dragging his upper body backwards. He scrabbled for purchase, finally able to sink his fingers into the grid of the catwalk. He pulled himself up until he could swing a leg up over the edge. Panting, he lay there for a second, his head pounding frantically. Being banged around wasn't really helping the whole concussion situation.

Telling his body to ignore the pain, he stood up. Before he could take a step, he heard what sounded like an explosion from somewhere else in the compound. A tremor ran through the catwalk.

He froze. That couldn't have been Mole's explosives. It was too soon.

Up ahead, White reached an intersection in the catwalk and hung a right. Alec reached down by his ankle for the backup piece that should have been there. It wasn't, of course, because lady luck was a bitch that apparently had a personal vendetta against him. With all the fighting he'd done that day, he could've lost it anywhere.

Shaking his head, Alec took off running once again. All that he had left was the knife in his boot, but it didn't matter. He'd kill White with his bare hands if he had to.

* * *

Kazi's chest felt like it was on fire, though she was sure it was more from frigid air and panic than it was lack of stamina. Normally, she could run for hours. She may not have been able to outrun the boys when it came to speed drills, but she could hold her own long distance.

It had been a long time since she'd had to run for her life. She was obviously out of practice.

She glanced to her left and saw Dalton and Oscar running full tilt beside her, their faces pale and stark in the wan light. There was a look in their eyes, one that she was sure was mirrored on her own face. They understood, just like she did, what was happening.

They were being herded.

They took temporary cover behind a large outcropping of boulders, pausing to get their bearings and catch their breath. Oscar leaned against the rocks but found himself sliding down as his legs refused to support him. Dalton stood next to him, hanging on to an outcropping in the rock so he wouldn't end up like Oscar. Kazi stood apart, though she wasn't sure if it was more her choice or theirs.

She bent over, her hands on her knees. "We're in trouble," she panted, breathing hard.

"You think?" Dalton asked sarcastically, chest heaving as he tried to suck in as much air as he could. Kazi noticed that he wouldn't look at her. "Try the radio again," he told Oscar.

Oscar flipped it on. His shoulders sagged. The hiss of static was answer enough.

Dalton cursed. "Come on," he said, grabbing Oscar by his jacket and dragging him to his feet. "We need to keep moving."

They moved along the ridge, forced to circle around back the way they came. Kazi brought up the rear, frowning at Dalton's back as they ran.

She wished he would yell at her. Scream at her and tell her that it was all her fault. It had been _her_ stupid idea to try to draw the Familiars off. What had she been thinking? She'd been so tired of sitting around that she'd just wanted to _do_ something. Well, that had worked out well, hadn't it?

She'd feel better if he yelled at her.

* * *

Higgins ignored the burning in his lungs and the ache in his legs and ran faster. He was desperately trying to keep up with Wil; he didn't want to hold him back. He could see the man was worried about Zev. There was definitely something between them—or if there wasn't, there soon would be.

Breathing hard and sweating profusely, Higgins watched Wil run ahead of him. The X5 made it seem effortless, like he was a part of the blowing wind.

Higgins could see why people hated them—the Transgenics. Envy was such a nasty emotion, it always felt better to hide it behind hate. But in the time that Higgins had been stationed at Terminal City—talking to them, fighting beside them—he found that they really weren't so different after all, on the inside.

* * *

Alec practically flew across the catwalk, ignoring how it rattled and shook beneath his feet. It was either risk the whole thing crashing down or risk losing White—no contest in his book. Besides, if the whole thing came down, maybe he'd take White down with him. It wouldn't be as satisfying as making sure the man was dead with his own hands, but whatever got the job done was all right with him.

Ahead of him, White hung a right, switching to a branch of the catwalk that took him over one of the larger tanks. The other end of the catwalk connected to a platform on the far wall. Alec could see a red sign glowing dully, the word EXIT partially obscured by years of grime.

"Oh no you don't," Alec said under his breath. He made a snap decision, one his brain identified as potentially disastrous and definitely full on crazy, but he did it anyway.

Without a hitch in his stride, he jumped on the top of the guard rail and launched himself at White.

For a few gut-wrenching seconds he was airborne, cutting the angle between his section of catwalk and White's by taking the shortest route possible… just not the safest route possible.

He landed with a loud clang a few feet in front of White, causing the Familiar to skid to a halt as his escape route was blocked. The catwalk shuddered ominously.

Alec raised an eyebrow at him. "Going somewhere?" he breathed, his chest heaving from exertion.

White stood there for a moment, eyes flicking around the room as he weighed his options. It didn't take long, as he didn't have many left. Resigned to that fact, he slipped his jacket off of his shoulders and laid it over the rail. Deep red stained his shirt where Alec had shot him. "I suppose a short delay wouldn't hurt," he said, moving into a defensive stance.

Alec heart sped up. This was it. His entire future—Max's, their child's—hinged on this moment. He pulled the knife from his boot.

"I'm going to kill you, Ames."

White's eyes flicked to the blade, then back to Alec's face. The Familiar's mouth quirked and he crouched a little lower in his stance.

"Give it your best shot, 494."

* * *

Gem frowned, staring at her feet. She could have sworn that she'd felt a tremor. "Did you feel that?" she asked Dix.

The transhuman grunted. He was too preoccupied watching the progress on screen. They were almost there.

"It felt like an explosion," Gem said, moving to the doorway to check the hall. "Maybe on the other side of the compound."

"Probably a mortar round or some other thing that goes boom," Dix muttered, eyes still on the screen. He knew that they were running behind. Mole wouldn't blow the place until all teams checked in, but that didn't mean that the Familiars didn't have some heavier artillery inside the base. It didn't matter, though. They couldn't leave without the data.

"I don't like it," Gem said worriedly. "Can't you make that thing go faster?"

"What's to like? And no, I cannot make it go faster." Dix grimaced at her. "Why don't you go out in the hall and patrol or whatever? You're making me twitchy."

Gem snorted and rolled her eyes, muttering something about computer geeks as she moved out into the hall.

* * *

The Transgenic attacked, blade flying with blinding speed. White was forced back by the fury of it, struggling to block blows that didn't stop coming. Blood flew.

Realizing that he really was fighting for his life, White threw caution to the wind. He shifted from defense to aggressive offence, launching himself at 494 in an effort to throw him off. He felt the blade glance against his collarbone but he ignored it, latching on to 494's wrist and twisting hard. The knife fell out of his hand. Seizing the opportunity, White brought his elbow up, slamming it into the underside of 494's chin and knocking him backwards.

Alec's body tilted precariously over the guard rail. He straightened his legs and caught the opposite rail with his feet to keep from tumbling over, but it left him open to attack. White brought his elbow down into his gut, bending him in half and sending him crumpling to the floor of the catwalk.

White kicked out at his head, but Alec ducked and caught the underside of the Familiar's ankle. He surged upward, taking White's leg with him as he went. The man landed flat on his back, the air whooshing out of his lungs. Alec jumped high in the air, his foot aimed to come down right across White's throat and crush it, but the Familiar somersaulted backwards out of the way.

Alec advanced on him with a growl. Frustration surged through him as the tight quarters of the catwalk limited his movements. He'd always been a natural kickboxer, and most of his favorite moves were spinning kicks that were virtually impossible on the catwalk.

White gripped a section of the guard rail next to him and yanked hard. With a screech, a piece of metal the size of his arm tore free, and he swung it around. Alec leaned backward to avoid the blow and instead of the sharp metal cutting his throat, it carved a path across his upper chest. White flipped the metal in his grip, stabbing it downward. Alec twisted and caught the weapon as it came down, pulling it forward and twisting White's hand. The Familiar refused to drop it, hanging on until the metal snapped in half.

The two combatants separated, both breathing heavily, each now armed with a short piece of metal. Only one of them was going to get out of the building alive.

White smiled at him, his teeth stained red with blood. "I'll enjoy watching you die, 494," he spat, pointing his weapon at Alec. "Even more than I enjoyed cutting that abomination out of your bitch."

Back at Manticore, his instructors had from the day of his birth tried to stamp out any sign of emotion from him and his brethren. You weren't supposed to enjoy winning. You weren't supposed to hate your enemy. Every fight was just another job to do, every assassination another business transaction. Anger could cripple you in a fight. Rage could blind you.

Manticore may have been full of heartless bastards, but occasionally they had a point.

Alec's vision went white, turning the world into a negative. With a howl of rage that echoed through the large room, he threw himself at the man who had tried to take his family from him.

* * *

Lon heard movement in the stairwell and trained his gun on the opening, ready to open fire if he didn't like who stepped through. Holding their position had been difficult at first, but things had been quiet for a while now. The Familiars were either regrouping or running like hell, but he seriously suspected he wasn't lucky enough to have it be the latter. His nerves were strung tight. Every little noise sounded like a gunshot. He'd be happy when they could get out of this place and blow it to kingdom come.

A large looming shape appeared in the opening, and Lon relaxed; familiars didn't come that big. "Joshua," he said with a nod, lowering his gun. A second later, Max stepped out from behind him, holding a large glowing chamber and looking a little worse for the wear. Lon's eyes widened as he realized exactly what she was holding.

Max turned and handed the chamber to Joshua, breathing a sigh of relief at the loss of the weight. She bent over, hands on her knees as she took a couple of deep breaths. She glanced up at Lon. "You're not dead."

Lon's lips quirked. "Following orders, boss." He looked past Joshua, expecting to see Alec bringing up the rear, but he wasn't there. A wave of anxiety hit him, and he was almost afraid to ask the question. "Where's Alec?" He hoped nothing had happened to him. Terminal City couldn't afford to lose him, and neither could Max.

Max straightened. Her jaw clenched, and the look on her face was indecipherable. It wasn't quite anger or fear or anxiety or hope but a little bit of everything. She didn't say anything, but Joshua leaned down and said quietly, "Alec taking care of last minute business."

Lon nodded. He was pretty sure what that last minute business was.

"What's the sitch?" Max asked, her tone and demeanor shifting into non-nonsense leader mode.

"We've been able to hold this area. Been quiet for the past half hour. Communications are down. They're jamming. Best guess is they've got reinforcements heading in. You've probably already noticed the explosions. Considering the timing, I don't think they're ours."

"So we need to haul ass." Max paused, then asked, "Mole and Dix?"

Lon shook his head. "No sign. Could be they're on their way out."

Max ran a hand through her hair. "We can't know for sure with the comms down. Damn it." She swayed slightly, reaching out to grab Joshua for support.

"Max needs to sit down," Joshua said worriedly.

"He's right," Lon added. "You don't look so good."

"I'm fine," Max snapped, letting go off Joshua and straightening to prove her point. She glared at what was left of her strike group. "And the next person that tells me I don't look good will have their face personally acquainted with my fist."

"Duly noted," Lon said, taking a step back. It wasn't that he was afraid of her. It was that… okay, he was afraid of her.

"Good," she replied, giving Lon and extra long glare before she looked away. "With comms down, we execute Evac Plan Charlie. All teams will be heading for the rendezvous point. We move out and hope that our people are there. If they're not, we come looking."

"Damn straight," said one of the men behind Lon, chambering a round into his gun. "Max Law #4."

"You bet your ass," Max said with a nod.

_You hear that, Alec?_ she thought._ I'm coming for you. And you'd damn well better be alive when I find you._

* * *

Kazi never heard the bullet. The sound of her own harsh breathing drowned everything else out. She only knew Oscar had been hit when she saw him stumble, a hand on his hip and grimace of pain on his face.

"Oscar!" Kazi cried out, reaching for him. Dalton turned his head and slowed, fear etched across his face. He fired two quick rounds covering fire, but no more—they couldn't afford to waste the bullets.

"It's just a scratch!" Oscar yelled, pushing Kazi off as he regained his stride, catching up to Dalton. "Keep running!"

As Oscar ran ahead, Dalton and Kazi shared a worried look, then they did what he said. They kept running.

* * *

Zev yelped and turned away from the window, a sharp cut from flying glass etched right under her eye. A half an inch higher and she'd have lost her most highly developed asset… militarily speaking, anyway.

"You okay?" Klaasen asked, sparing her a glance where he stood covering the other window.

"Yeah," Zev said, wiping the thin line of blood away. She looked back out the window. There was no sign of the enemy, which was probably a good thing. At least they hadn't worked up the guts to advance yet. No sign of friendlies either, which was not so good.

"Where are you, Wil?" Zev whispered, leaning her head against the window frame.

* * *

Alec couldn't quite remember what had happened next. He'd thrown himself at White and then…

There were vague flashes of memory. Light glinting off the broken piece of metal in his hand. A sharp pain in his side. Blood. Since he was still breathing and didn't appear to be bleeding out, he figured he hadn't done too bad for himself. Especially since he currently had White in headlock from behind and was trying his damnedest to pop the bastard's head clean off.

He bent backward, using his weight to lift White's feet off the floor of the catwalk as he squeezed his arm tighter around the man's throat. White tugged on the arm choking him, occasionally beating at Alec with his fists, but his struggles were growing weaker.

"Die, you bastard," Alec hissed into White's ear. "_Die_."

Finally, the moment had come. He was going to kill Ames White.

Somewhere off to his right, floor exploded upward, pushing concrete and metal and fire straight up into the air. The debris hit the catwalk, and one side broke free from its moorings. It tipped wildly, sending Alec and White tumbling over the side.

In that instant of weightlessness before gravity took hold, Alec let go of White and reached out, trying to grab on to something, anything. He managed to snag the guard rail, but his hand was slick with blood. Realizing he was going to fall, he held his breath and braced himself for the inevitable.

His fingers slipped.

White crashed down onto the center hub of what looked like some sort of turbine that must have once stirred the contaminated water. Alec crashed down a second later, though more off to the side, landing on the hard edge of the turbine. He heard one or more of his ribs crack, though he was too full of adrenalin to feel it. He tried to hold on, but his body had too much momentum. He slid off the edge and then fell two stories down, landing hard on his back in a foot slimy water.

Alec couldn't breathe. His back arched and he clawed at his chest. His lungs refused to take in air. It was a familiar feeling.

He told himself to relax, that he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him, nothing more. But it was hard to relax when you couldn't breathe. Hard to be sensible when you kept getting images of broken ribs piercing your lung. Kept imagining drowning in your own blood.

_Been there, done that. Don't care for a repeat performance._

The pressure finally eased and he sat up with a gasp. He struggled to his feet and stood on shaky legs, dripping black slimy water. He looked up, body swaying as his head began to spin. Up above, White was dragging himself across the edge one of the great turbine blades, scooting carefully along until he reached the narrow walkway around the rim of tank. Once he reached safety, he stood and turned around, staring down into the tank.

The Familiar bent over double and laughed.

Alec had an uncontrollable desire to reach down White's throat and pull out his spine. "Why don't you come down here, Ames, and we'll see who gets the last laugh?"

White shook his head, still laughing. "Oh, I don't think so, 494. I like this vantage point much better."

Alec was overcome with impotent rage. His hands clenched and unclenched, as if imagining themselves wrapping around White's throat. "You fucking coward!"

"That's a matter of opinion, 494. While you may think it's cowardice for me to take my leave, I think it's a sign of my obviously superior intellect that I choose to live to fight another day. I'm afraid you won't have the opportunity to make that choice yourself, but, _c'est la vie._"

"White!" he screamed. _No. No. This couldn't be happening. Not again. Not when he'd been so close._

"Goodbye, 494." With his hand to his heart, White backed away, bowing slightly. "It's been a pleasure." With that, he slipped away from the edge of the tank and disappeared.

Alec's eyes frantically scanned the edge of the tank, illogically expecting White to reappear so he would have a change to finish what he started. But that didn't happen.

He had failed. Again.

"**WHITE**!"

* * *

Almost there.

Wil told himself to slow down, knowing that he wouldn't be able to help Zev if he ran blindly into the guns of the enemy. The problem was, his feet didn't want to listen.

He could hear Higgins breathing hard behind him, struggling to keep up. It made him slow a bit. He couldn't afford to lose Higgins.

He had a feeling he was going to need all the help he could get.

* * *

Gem squatted down to give her feet a break, her back against doorframe where she could still watch the hall. There were definitely explosions going off out there, and too damn early too. She turned her head toward Dix, thinking it might be okay to go ahead and risk asking him about the transfer status when something caught her eye. She ducked her head, glancing under the desk where Dix sat. She froze, breath catching in her throat.

"Dix," she whispered harshly.

"I told you, it'll be done when it's done," he said with a long-suffering sigh.

Gem stood slowly, cautiously. "Dix, you need to back away."

Dix turned his head at her sudden even, business-like tone. The don't-fuck-with-me tone. "Why?" he asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

Gem swallowed hard, her eyes flicking downward. "Under the desk."

Instead of moving away, Dix bent over in his seat and stuck in head under the desk. Wired underneath was enough C4 to blow the room to hell and back. A small, computerized detonator, hooked through various wires to the main computer, blinked red at him.

"Ah, hell..."

* * *

Another explosion, this one so close that it felt like the ground underneath him dropped three feet and then slammed back up to meet him, knocking him to his hands and knees.

With a horrendous metallic screech, the dangling section of catwalk from which he'd fallen broke off and plummeted downward, snapping through the upper turbine blade, on a collision course with his head. He threw himself to the side, landing face down in the muck as he barely avoiding getting cut in two.

Alive but extremely pissed off, he sat up and wiped the sludge out of his eyes with an irritated flick. It was bad enough that he'd lost White and was stuck in this hole until he found a way out, but he had to be stuck with a concussion, broken ribs, a stab wound or two, and on top of that, he was a mess. He spat out a mouthful of slime. He would have literally killed for a toothbrush at that moment. How was it possible that all of this shit could happen to one person? It was like he was a walking advertisement for Murphy's Law or something.

The sound of a deep rumble overhead made him freeze. He slowly, almost reluctantly, looked up.

The ceiling was collapsing.

Figured.

There was no time to seek cover, not that there was much to be had anyway. He rolled into a ball and covered his head with his arms as chunks of the ceiling rained down around him. The whole thing must have been coming down. The noise was deafening. His mouth was open and he thought that he was screaming, but he couldn't hear it over the sound of destruction.

Being crushed to death was seriously going to suck. Not to mention that Max would be seriously pissed at him for getting himself killed. It would, however, save her the trouble of breaking up with him.

* * *

Wil breathed a sigh of relief. The alley behind the Childcare Center was clear. The Familiars hadn't managed to flank them yet. He waved for Higgins to follow him, then slipped down the alley to the back door of the center. He knocked softly, three times in rapid succession.

From behind the door, Wil heard what sounded like a whispered argument, then silence. Finally, a small voice called out, "Identify yourself!"

"It's Wil. I've got Corporal Higgins from the Army base with me. Let us in."

"How do I know it's you?"

"Because I know that three weeks ago the government decided to treat us with a batch of hot chocolate and stale marshmallows."

"So what?" came the response. "Anybody could find that out. Government's not good at keeping secrets."

Wil shifted impatiently. "Would they know that we had two extra boxes of marshmallows, so we ended up having a marshmallow battle to end all marshmallow battles in the mess hall?"

Wil heard whispering on the other side of the door, then a distinct click. "Ok. You can come in."

Wil opened the door and slipped inside, Higgins right behind him, only to find a Glock pointed right at his face, held by hands too small for such a big weapon.

The X8—_Maddox? No, Matthew_—lowered the gun, though he didn't relax. "Sorry," he offered. "Had to be sure."

Wil reached out to ruffle the kid's hair. "Better safe than sorry. Where's Zev?"

Matthew nodded his head at the door behind him. "Up front. She put me in charge of the little ones."

Wil nodded, even though Matthew was not that much bigger than many of the children he was watching. "Good man," he said. "Stick to it. We'll just go up front and get this mess straightened out, okay?"

Matthew nodded, his eyes wide and full of hero worship. It gave Wil a funny feeling in his chest. "Okay," the boy said solemnly.

Wil nodded at Higgins to follow him, then headed to the front of the building. "Friendlies coming in," Wil called out before he stepped into the main room to avoid having more guns pointed at them.

As soon as he stepped into the room, his eyes scanned, seeking Zev. She was standing at the window—_alive_—all of her weight on one leg, the other bandaged and bloody. Her head whipped around at his voice, and she sagged against the wall in relief.

He moved up, gently moving her to the side and taking her position at the window. After taking stock with his men, Higgins took the other window. It was quiet out there for the moment.

Wil spared a moment and looked at Zev. "You all right?" he asked quietly.

Zev didn't answer but smiled wanly at him. Her eyes flicked to Higgins. "The two of you it?" she asked, grimacing as she put too much weight on her injured leg.

Wil put on an offended look, putting his hand to his chest. "What, I'm not good enough?"

As if on cue, a grenade flew in the broken window Wil was guarding. He reached out and snatched it out of the air blindly, spinning around in one smooth motion and chucking it back out of the window before it could go off. The large boom rattled the windows, but that was the extent of its damage.

Klassen stared at him with wide-eyed amazement. "_Dude_."

Zev moved closer to Wil, a hand on his shoulder as she peered out the window into the swirling snow. "Guess they're not interested in taking us alive anymore."

Wil frowned. "They must've seen us come in. Tired of the standoff. They're going to make a move." He backed away from the window, checking the load on his weapon. "We need to take them out. Now."

"I'm with you," Corporal Higgins

Wil shook his head. "We appreciate your assistance, Higgins, but you've done enough. This isn't your fight."

"The hell is isn't!" Higgins shouted, pointing a finger at his man who lay dead on the floor. "They _made_ it my fight."

Wil could tell from the look in his eyes that Higgins wouldn't back down. He gave the Corporal a quick nod, acceptance and thanks. He hadn't really cared for the idea of going out there alone.

He turned toward Zev, hesitating. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. Not like this. It would be too much like saying goodbye.

"_Wil_…" she said, a worried plea. Even with Higgins' help, they both knew the odds.

His name on her lips broke his resolve. He closed the distance between them, pulling her closer with a hand on the back of her neck. He closed his eyes and kissed her.

It was everything he had ever hoped it would be and at the same time not enough. An hour wouldn't be enough. _Days_. He would never get enough of her.

Reluctantly, he broke off the kiss. He rest his forehead on hers, willing her to understand what he could not put into words. "In case this ends badly."

He tore himself away from her and left the room without a backward glance. Higgins gave Zev a small nod of acknowledgement, then turned and followed.

Zev stood there, stunned. She brought a trembling hand to her lips, as if she wasn't sure what had just happened had really happened. Then her face hardened and she turned to face the window, bringing up her weapon.

"What are you waiting for, Klassen?" she shouted at the soldier. "Let's give 'em a distraction."

She opened fire, hoping she had enough bullets left to give Wil the time he needed.

* * *

Alec opened his eyes, blinking against the dust that swirled in the air, a bit shocked that he was still alive.

He took an experimental breath in and immediately regretted it as his body was wracked with coughs. The dust was so thick it made it hard to breath. Pain flared across his chest from his cracked ribs with each cough.

When the spasms finally ceased, he sagged with relief, content to lay there for a moment in the muck. It wasn't long before the cold and the god-awful smell prodded him to move.

He tried to roll over on his back and sit up, but the bottom half of his body wouldn't cooperate. For an instant he panicked, thinking of severed spinal cords that TC didn't have the technology to fix.

He twisted around, almost afraid to look. He was surrounded by a tangle of steel beams and metal framework, concrete and torn wiring. Thanks to the hub of the turbine, the ceiling hadn't come down completely; it had kept the larger debris from crushing him, creating a pocket about fifteen feet high. It had also effectively sealed the top of the tank off; there may have been a hole in the tangle of wreckage big enough for him to crawl through, but it would take him forever to find it, even if he could manage to get up there.

Of course, that would be a little hard while he had a large chunk of fucking _building_ parked on top of him. The burning, throbbing pain in his lower left leg was enough to convince him that he wasn't paralyzed, but he might as well have been, because he wasn't going anywhere with the damn roof on top of him.

He turned left and right, looking for something he could use on it. _There_—a support strut from the catwalk. He used it as a lever, crying out when the chunk shifted off of him, grating against the wound.

Eyes watering, he sat up and gingerly examined his leg. It was slick with blood. A sharp edge of the concrete chunk had cut through his skin to the bone. He didn't need an x-ray to know that it was broken: he could _see_ the fracture through the split in his skin. He closed his eyes, bile rising in his throat.

"Oww…" he whined, head thunking against the knee of his uninjured leg. He was tired. Tired and soaked and smelly and in fucking pain and he wanted to go home.

He buried his fingers in his soggy hair and pulled. It hurt, but he felt more alert. "You wanna go home? Quit whining and do something about it," he scolded himself.

He turned his attention back to his leg. There wasn't much he could do about the break right now—it was a clean one, straight across like someone had neatly snapped it in half—but he needed to at least stop the bleeding. He reached inside his jacket and ripped off a thick strip off the bottom of his shirt. He gritted his teeth and wrapped the cloth around the wound as tight as he could. When he was done, he threw up.

He sat there in the muck for a while, too tired to do anything else. Mole would set off the charges soon. He knew Max would try to get them to wait, but Mole would do what he had to do. He saw the big picture. They couldn't risk all of them for one man, and he didn't want them to, even if _he_ happened to be that one man.

He wondered if Max had gotten out with… with their baby. It was hard to wrap his head around that one word: _baby_. As long as they'd gotten out safe, it wouldn't have all been for nothing.

Max would have to watch her back with White still crawling around out there, but she'd be more careful now. Having a kid changed things. It had to, right? Assuming that she had the kid. What if she didn't want it? What if she decided she didn't want to face that responsibility alone?

Wait a minute. Why would she have to face it alone? He wasn't dead yet. Trapped, sure, and beat to shit, but not dead. He could get out of this. He'd lived through two decades of Manticore hell, hadn't he? This was a piece of cake compared to that.

He dragged himself to his feet, using the metal bar to lever himself up. He swayed a bit, but didn't fall. Awesome.

Something caught his eye, off to the left. He turned, eyes zooming in. He could see the side of the tank, but part of it looked different somehow. He hobbled over, using the bar as a makeshift crutch. When he got close enough, he realized he wasn't looking at the side of the tank but through it. He closed the distance and reached out, hand tracing over thick glass. It must've been some sort of observation window, so the engineering types or whoever could watch sewage being processed.

He slammed his fist against the glass—safety, probably six inches thick at least. It wasn't going to break easily. He swung his metal bar like he was a batter swinging for the fences. It rammed into the window and bounced back, vibrating like a bitch and causing him to stumble backwards.

"Dammit!" he cursed, throwing down the bar in disgust before realizing it was probably the only thing that was keeping him upright. There was no way he was getting through that window. He doubted even bullets would make a dent.

He was trapped, and White was gone.

Perfect. Just perfect.

He turned awkwardly on his good leg, taking in his surroundings. There had to be another way out. A hatch or something. All he had to do was find it before the rest of the building came down.

From somewhere above he heard a loud crack, followed by an intense hissing sound. He squinted up through the debris, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. His eyes widened as he spotted a long fissure in a large pipe at the edge of the tank—the one that fed water into the tank, apparently, since it was coming out of the fracture in a fine spray.

"Don't even…" he threatened the pipe, as if it would hear him and obey. But life didn't work that way. At least, not _his_ life.

A second later, the pipe cracked wide open. Water burst from it, gushing into the tank below.

The tank where he was currently trapped with little hope of escape.

For a moment, all he could do was stare at the water gushing in, a look of stunned disbelief on his face.

"You've got to be kidding me!!"

He wasn't a walking advertisement for Murphy's Law. He was the goddamn embodiment of it.

* * *

A/N: I will do my best to bring these updates to you a bit quicker if I can. All I need to do is manage to get a headlock on my real life and make it behave.


	17. Ch 16: Blaze of Glory

The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: I haven't forgotten this story. I'm still plugging away, but life continues to be crazier than usual. My suitcase and I have become very good friends lately, as the definition of "occasional travel" is apparently not as occasional as I thought it would be. But enough with my whining… on with the story!

If you're not familiar with The Book of Max, I would recommend reading my short story of the same name. There will be some references to it.

Warning: There is a good chance that multiple characters will be brutalized, maimed, and/or generally pounded on as I work out my real-life frustrations through the written word. It's a good thing this story's not a comedy.

* * *

Chapter 16: Blaze of Glory

Max and what was left of Attack Group Moe ran into Mole's group as they made their way out of the building. It was a good thing, too, because on their way out they ran into the Familiar reinforcements Lon had suspected were coming. The combined squads of Curly and Moe took out enough Familiars that it forced the rest of the bad guys to temporarily retreat. This gave the Transgenics enough time to make it to the rally point and take up defensive positions until Larry, Dix's team, showed up.

Max eased herself down onto a log, stifling a whimper of relief as the tension on her battered body eased. Joshua sat down beside her, close enough that his side brushed hers, his big arms still wrapped protectively around the stasis chamber.

She leaned against him, offering him a weary smile of thanks, which he returned with a light nod. If she hadn't been so worried about Alec and the others, she would have fallen asleep right then and there.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Joshua," she said with a sigh, eyelids drooping.

"Get into a lot more trouble than already do?" he teased gently.

Max gave a little laugh. "You're probably right," she said wryly.

She straightened and forced her tired eyes open, looking around. Quite a few people were nursing wounds; others were simply ignoring theirs. Only a lucky few had made it through the battle completely unscathed. A small makeshift med tent had been erected from large pine boughs to help protect and camouflage those who had been seriously wounded in the battle. Beside it, more bodies than she cared to admit lay covered with a tarp, beyond help.

They'd take them back. All of them. No one gets left behind.

It was in The Book, after all; Alec's almighty Book of Max, which had started out as an annoying and semi-obnoxious joke but had over time become to mean so much more, to all of them.

Kind of like Alec.

She blinked a couple of times, trying to make the burny feeling in her eyes go away. She would not cry—not until she was sure there was something to cry about.

Mole stood at the edge of their encampment, his eyes on the Familiar compound. He had removed his wristwatch and was holding it in his hand. He wasn't looking at it, but he could feel time ticking away. In his other hand, he held a remote detonator.

"What was with those explosions, anyway, Mole?" he heard Max ask from behind him. "They weren't ours."

It was a statement, not a question. It was almost accusatory, but even through the attitude he could tell she was dead tired. Hell, _he_ was dead tired. They had to end this thing, and soon, or there was a good chance that none of them would make it back.

"Of course they weren't ours." He turned to face her. "Don't you ever watch any of those movies your boyfriend smuggles into TC? The bad guys _always_ have a self destruct…" The last word trailed off he finally caught sight of what Joshua was holding. He'd been so busy kicking Familiar ass that he hadn't noticed.

"Whoa…" There was a genuine sense of wonder in his voice. He could hear Max's voice in his head, quavering as she tried to convince them of the odds against the very thing he was looking at right now. His lips quirked with the hint of a smile. "One in a billion."

He found he couldn't take his eyes off the little bulbous life form inside. It was amazing really, to think that Max and Alec had made that tiny little thing. Not like _they'd_ been made. Not with cold, sterile calculation and one eye on the bottom line.

The scaly Transhuman shook his head and cleared his throat. This train of thought was a little too maudlin for his taste. He focused on re-lighting his last cigar. They'd better get back to TC soon, or he was going to get cranky. "Where is Alec, anyway?" he asked with a puff of smoke. He couldn't be dead. Max wouldn't be calmly sitting there not ripping Familiar heads off if Alec was dead.

Max's lips narrowed into thin line. She pushed herself up off of the log and brushed past Mole to stare at the Familiar compound in the distance. Alec was in there somewhere. Even though she understood his reasons, she was still mad—at Alec, for going; at herself, for letting him go it alone; at White, for putting them in this situation in the first place.

Mole turned around. He opened his mouth and was mostly likely about to insert foot when Joshua grabbed his arm, squeezing hard enough to let his friend know that it wasn't a good idea.

"Alec went after White," Joshua told Mole quietly, his eyes on Max. "Alone."

Mole snapped his mouth shut. He knew Alec had a hard-on for vengeance, but he hadn't really expected him to take it to the level of outright crazy. "So you're saying that Alec is still in the building that he knows, according to his own damn plan, we are about to blow up?"

"That pretty much covers it," Max answered in a clipped, controlled tone. She would not fly off the handle. She was CO, and COs weren't supposed to fly off the handle, even if it would probably make her feel better. Life had been a lot less complicated back in the days when she could smack someone upside the head without worrying about if she was setting a bad example.

Mole moved to stand beside her—a bold move on his part, considering her current mood. They stood in silence for a while, contemplating the now-smoking building.

"You know," Mole offered, tilting his scaly head to the side as if looking for a better angle, "I think this whole leadership thing's gone to your boyfriend's head. He probably expects me to blow it with him in there."

Max gave Mole a sharp and dangerous look that had him holding up his hands. "Relax. I'm not saying I'd do it," he added quickly in an attempt to defuse the situation. "Even if he was the last one left in there. I'm saying he'd _expect_ me to. You know how he thinks. Sure, he's all about saving his own ass unless _you_ happen to be involved. Add the kid to the mix…? He'll jump at the chance to go out in a blaze of glory if he thinks there's a good chance it'll save you."

Max went back to glaring at the building, as if she could somehow penetrate its walls to reach her true target—her MIA Second in Command, lover, and father of her currently expatriated child.

Max huffed. "Sometimes he's just plain stupid."

Mole nodded and went back to chewing on his cigar. "Amen, sister."

* * *

Before he knew it, the water was up to his knees and rising at an alarming rate.

Alec slogged along as best he could, looking for a release valve, an access hatch, a damn crack in the tank—anything that might possibly get him out of this mess. He was having a hard time of it, hampered as he was by his broken leg. Blood trailed behind him, seeping from the wound. God only knew what sort of infectious bacteria was seeping into his bloodstream from the contaminated water, but it looked like he wouldn't be in a position to care anyway, because he was going to drown long before he had to worry about septicemia.

He climbed up on a piece of the wreckage, ignoring pain-induced nausea as he looked for some way through. He thought he saw something over to his left. He climbed over, his body dangling as he moved hand over hand like a kid on monkey bars. He tried to lever himself through the gap, but it was too small. To make matters worse, he found out the hard way that there was a sharp piece of metal on one side of the opening. It sliced into his shoulder and he let go with a yelp, falling with a splash into the water below.

He came up sputtering. He managed to get his feet under him again and stood on his good leg, gagging on the taste of the foul water.

It was already up to his chest.

Alec tilted his head back and looked up through the too-small gap in the wreckage. There was a hint of open sky above, teasing him with its unreachable freedom. The water rippled around him.

"Hey!" he called out, his voice wavering from the cold and a healthy dose of fear. "Anybody up there? Hello?"

Silence, save for the sound of rushing water and the pounding of his own heart.

"Help!"

* * *

Zev fired each round with deliberation, her shots spaced out enough to conserve ammo but consistent enough to keep Familiars attention on the building.

"Any day now, Wil," she muttered worriedly.

* * *

They were pinned down. Even though they'd tried to avoid it, the Familiars had managed to herd the X6s right into the path of a second group of Familiars. They'd taken what could loosely be termed as cover in a shallow gully, flattening their bodies to the ground to stay out of the line of fire. They were holding the Familiars off for now, but they wouldn't be able to keep it up for long.

"Shit!" Kazi yelled, blinking rapidly as a bullet hit right beside her head, kicking up a shower of dirt and temporarily blinding her. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision.

"Keep your head down or you'll get it blown off!" Dalton yelled, firing two rounds in response.

"Kind of hard to shoot back if you're not looking!" she yelled back at him, rubbing her eyes.

"Kind of hard to shoot back if you're dead!" Dalton countered with a growl.

"Will you two stop arguing?" Oscar shouted, his voice rising with panic. "This is bad enough as it is!"

* * *

Max paced.

The long range crews were missing—all of them, including Dalton, Oscar, and Kazi. They'd sent scouts out to retrieve them and had come up empty. Signs pointed to each group having to displace, most likely because they'd been discovered, but none of them had made it to the rally point.

Dix's group hadn't reported in yet, and Alec was MIA. They couldn't blow the place if they were still inside.

Max had a bad feeling that things were about to go south, fast.

She stopped pacing and turned to face the others, decision made. "Enough waiting. We need to find our people. Now."

Mole stood up. Another five minutes, and he'd had been planning to suggest it himself. He was kind of glad Max had brought it up ahead of time. He'd had a taste of leadership, and he had happily handed that thankless job back over to Max. He much preferred to play third fiddle behind Alec's second.

"All right, then. What's the plan?"

"Mole, half of your group will search for Dix's group. The rest will search for our long range teams. You and I will look for Alec. Lon, you and the rest of Moe stay here and hold the fort. Hopefully, some of our MIAs will show while we're gone."

"No problem, boss," Lon replied with a nod. "We got your back."

"Should call in Shemp," Joshua offered from where he sat on the log, a hand resting on top of the stasis chamber.

"How? Max asked. "Comms are down."

"Send a runner?" Joshua suggested.

"Sounds good to me," Mole said with a nod.

"Okay," Max said. "We send a runner. Zip's fastest, but she can't go, 'cause she's hurt." She looked around at the faces staring back at her. "Who else is fast? Rex? How about you? Can you hack it?"

Rex stepped forward. "Absotively."

"Good. Go now." Before she had even finished her sentence, he'd disappeared into the trees.

People were breaking up into groups, gearing up for what they needed to do. Joshua approached Max, for the first time setting down the stasis chamber.

"What about me, Little Fella?"

Max reached out and squeezed his arm. "I need you to stay here and take care of… of…"

She trailed off, eyes drawn to the stasis chamber. She stood there for a moment, transfixed. It still didn't seem real to her, no matter how many times she saw the proof of it right in front of her face.

A baby. Hers and Alec's. Currently MIA Alec, who she was determined to find and bring back alive, thank you very much, because no way in Hell was she raising a kid on her own.

She looked back to Joshua. "You're the only one I would trust to do it."

Joshua looked torn. "But… Joshua promised Alec…"

Max smiled up at him. "I know what you promised, Josh, but I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. But the… _baby_…"—she forced herself to say the word—"… can't. I need you to do that for me, all right?"

She could see he was still uneasy about the idea of her going back in the building. She had an idea what would convince him. "I never had a parent, Joshua," she added softly. "I want my child to have two."

Joshua blinked, his eyes suddenly misty. He drew her into a hug, his big arms enveloping her. "Come back safe," he whispered gruffly into her hair.

She squeezed back. "That's the plan, big guy."

* * *

He was treading water now, using his arms to keep himself afloat. He was afraid if he used his injured leg too much, he might increase the bleeding. Maybe he shouldn't have bothered to care. The debris overhead was getting closer and closer as the water rose. So close he could reach out and touch it.

He was running out of room.

The water continued to rise, carrying him up with it. His head bumped against a chunk of the broken catwalk. He grabbed on to the grating, lacing his fingers through it to hold himself still. Water slid over his chin and he sputtered.

He tilted his head back to breath in narrow space of air left to him. He was shaking so hard he was surprised he could still hold on to the grating, but his fingers had turned white in a death grip. He wasn't sure he could let go if he tried.

He closed his eyes, his forehead pressed hard against the twisted metal. How long would it take him to die?

"Oh God, oh God, oh God…"

* * *

_Six… Seven… Eight…_

Higgins leaned against the wall, his weapon held at ready, silently counting in his head. He was hoping it would calm him down, but he couldn't seem to slow his breathing.

_Nine… Ten…_

This was his first taste of real combat. He'd been in dozens of simulated combat situations, but this was his first experience with an enemy that was ready and willing to shoot to kill. He'd been a desk jockey for most of his career, through no fault of his own. He'd wanted to see action, but he'd been shunted off to one Admin job after another. He supposed his looks probably had something to do with it. But now that he was thrown into the thick of things, he found that combat wasn't as glorious or exciting as the recruitment videos would have you believe.

Watching men die under your command was neither glorious nor exciting.

_Eleven… Twelve…_

They'd gone over the plan. Twice. Not that it was difficult. They would employ a basic flanking maneuver; Wil was counting on his knowledge of Terminal City to give them the edge. They would slip into the sewer system and come up a few blocks away, then double back and come up behind the group of Familiar's assaulting the Childcare Center and attack. Simple.

Maybe it was too simple. Maybe that was his problem. He was used to battle plans and formations and tactics that took days to plan—not a seat-of-the-pants five minute attack plan with an army of two.

_Thirteen. _

_Damn. Bad luck._

Wil spared a glance at Higgins as he checked the load on his weapon. The solider looked nervous. Truth be told, Wil was a little nervous himself. They were outnumbered five to one—not the best of odds when dealing with Familiars.

"Still with me?" Wil asked with an eyebrow raise.

It was a little late in the game for this type of discussion, but the X5 wasn't going to drag Higgins into the fight if the soldier couldn't hack it. All that would do was get them both killed.

"Yeah," Higgins said. He flicked off the safety on his gun and put on his game face. He still looked like a teenager playing at soldier, but at least it was a pissed off teenager with a gun.

Wil chambered a round into his own gun. "Let do this."

* * *

Dix saw the timer in stark detail, bright red numbers counting down.

He wondered why the Familiars had even bothered with a timer. It seemed a waste of time. Why not just blow the room to hell as soon as security was breached? Of course, that would've been an extreme waste of money and resources—computers like these didn't come cheap. He would've killed, or at least maimed, to get a few like this for TC. The Familiars probably wanted to leave enough time to mount an armed response and possibly forego the blowing up of precious equipment.

That armed response had failed, thanks to Gem and the rest of his team.

His eyes traced the leads of the device. He cursed under his breath. It was hardwired to the computer.

What would happen when he pulled the external drive? If the Familiar's were smart, probably something involving a big boom.

There wasn't enough time to disarm the bomb. There wasn't even enough time to finish downloading everything from the computer main. He would have to hope that what he'd already downloaded would be enough.

He couldn't leave the drive. He knew that. Too many lives depended on the information he'd downloaded.

Damn it.

* * *

Considering how hard it had been to get into the building the first time, it was surprisingly easy to get back in. The rest of Mole's group split off, heading toward what they figured was Dix's general location. Max and Mole slipped down a level, heading for the area where Max had last seen Alec. It was as good a place to start as any.

They moved through the corridors virtually un-accosted, most of the Familiars busy trying to engage the retreating Transgenics. Once they were down a level, Mole stopped suddenly.

Max stopped and turned. "Mole?"

The Transhuman reached down and pulled out a small device from one of the many pockets of his cargo pants.

"What's that?" Max asked, moving to stand next to him.

Mole fiddled with some settings on the device. "Locater," he said simply. He would've left it at that, but from the look on Max's face, he didn't think it was a good time to mess with her. "Slipped a microdot tracer on the back of Prince Charming's collar before we left TC."

Max looked like she was torn between killing him and hugging him. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Mole shrugged, busying himself with the tracker so he wouldn't have to look at her. "It was a last minute sort of thing."

"A last minute sort of thing," Max repeated, deadpan.

More like Mole didn't want to undermine Alec's authority but didn't want to admit that he gave a damn in the first place. After all the time they'd all spent together, Max finally got how things worked between Alec and Mole. It was kind of wack, but she got it.

"You want I should track him or what?" Mole said exasperatedly.

"What're you asking me for?" she asked, moving to stand directly next to him so she could see the screen. "Get with the trackin'."

Mole moved a few dials and changed some settings—probably something to do with frequencies or range or some such—before he froze, eyes locked on the screen.

"Damn. Location's fixed." He looked up at Max, for once unable to hide the concern in his eyes. "He's not moving."

Max straightened, fear wrapping around her like the coils of a snake. "Where?"

Mole took a second to triangulate; after a few seconds, he pointed off to their right.

They took off running.

* * *

Alec was no longer looking for a way out. He couldn't think anymore. He was too cold and too scared to think.

He gasped in mouthfuls of ever more precious air, coughing when water lapped in. The air was almost gone.

He took in one last large gulp, knowing it would be his last. He tried to hold onto it, but it slipped out in a final, screaming plea.

"**Max!**"

Then there was no air left, and his head slipped under water.

* * *

They were still pinned down, taking fire.

"No one's coming," Dalton said quietly, scanning the tree line for the enemy. He spotted movement and fired a single shot. His target dodged. Damn; another bullet wasted. He turned to Oscar and Kazi. "We should split up. Lead them off, take them out one by one."

"Are you crazy?" Oscar hissed. He'd seen the movies Alec had procured for them for movie nights as EOS. Splitting up never ended well.

"I have to agree with Oscar on this one," Kazi said, surprised that she and Oscar were on the same side for once. "We should stand together."

"Yeah, 'cause that's really working for us," Dalton snarked. He paused for a moment, letting the sound of gunfire speak for him. "How long before we run out of bullets?"

Oscar and Kazi were silent. They both knew they didn't have enough ammo to make a stand that would end in anything other than their own deaths.

"If you guys have any other ideas, I'm all ears."

Oscar and Kazi looked at each other. They had nothing. They turned back to Dalton.

"All right," Oscar said reluctantly. "We split up."

"Okay," Dalton said, pulling them down further so that there would be less risk of them being overheard. "Here's the plan…"

* * *

Joshua paced.

He kept to a tight circuit, never straying more than a few feet away from his precious charge. The intermittent sound of gunfire increased his agitation exponentially with every passing minute.

What if Max and Alec didn't come back? He didn't want to think about it. Max and Alec were two of the best friends he'd ever had, but he couldn't help but wonder. It would be hard enough to deal with their loss, but what would happen to the baby? It couldn't survive locked that chamber forever.

He stopped and stared at the building in the distance, feeling the pull. He could help them—he knew he could—but…

Behind him, the small chamber glowed, humming only loud enough for a Transgenic to hear.

The Transhuman sat back down on the log with a trembling sigh, burying his face in his large hands.

* * *

"He's close," Mole panted as they ran, glancing down at the tracker.

They burst through a door into a large room, immediately throwing themselves to either side of the door in case someone not-to-friendly was on the other side. They needn't have bothered; the room was empty.

The space was oddly shaped, widening out in a sort of semicircle from a curved see-through wall. There was a door at the back of the room, as well as on either side. It was weird.

"What is this place?" Max asked, scanning the room for any sign of Alec.

"Observation room, I think," Mole offered. His eyes alternately checked the tracker and scanned the room. "For tours or something, probably. Gotta be one of the treatment tanks."

Max spun in a circle, frustrated. Still no sign of Alec. "Which way?" she asked.

Mole stood in front of the glass and stared down at the scanner. Then he slowly looked up, eyes widening as it dawned on him. "According to this, he's directly in front of us," he said with a rasp.

There was a panel beside window. On it was a button labeled _Interior Light_. Max surged forward and slapped her palm against it.

Lights flickered to life around the bottom rim of the tank. It was full of brownish-green tinged water and debris.

And Alec, floating a few feet from the glass, completely submerged.

* * *

Dix had several options. He could haul ass and save his skin, or he could do the right thing and maybe save everyone else.

It was times like this that he wished Manticore had skewed his DNA to make him a bit more morally ambiguous.

He stood up, simultaneously yanking the external drive from the computer. He made an attempt to run for the door, but he knew he wouldn't make it. He wasn't built for speed.

"Gem!" he yelled and tossed the drive toward her.

He saw her fingers close around it right before the world disappeared in a flash of white.

* * *

They split up. It was hard. You wouldn't have known it to look at them, the way they streaked through the woods, but they were scared. Each of them had spent time running for their lives through trees not very unlike the ones that blurred past.

The plan worked. The Familiars split up, a smaller group following each X6.

Now all each of them had to do was take out a group of amped up meatnecks practically twice their size without help, without using their precious remaining bullets, and without getting killed.

Piece of cake.

* * *

Alec twisted around in response to the light. Blood trails followed his leg as he moved, and Max could see that it was crudely bandaged.

"Alec!" Max yelled, running to the window and slamming her hands against it. Mole moved up beside her, staring through the window, assessing the situation.

Alec's head jerked up as he felt the vibration move through the water. His eyes widened. He swam over to the window, his movements stiff and awkward. His lips and skin had taken on a slightly bluish tinge—the water must be freezing.

[How long?] Max signaled with her hands. Sometimes the old Manticore knowledge came in handy.

Alec signaled back the number of minutes he'd been underwater. "Good," Max said, nodding her said. "That should give us time to go around, find a way in," she told Mole. "There's got to be an emergency hatch or something."

She signaled their intent to Alec. They were about to move out when Alec slapped his palm against the glass to get their attention.

[One or two minutes,] he signaled.

"One or two minutes?" Max repeated out loud, her brows furrowed in confusion. "I don't get it. He should be able to…"

Alec must've read her lips, because he shook his head. [Can't hold breath,] he signaled.

"Huh," Mole said in mild shock. "So there _is_ something he's not good at."

Alec's eyes began to flutter, and it jolted a stunned Max into action. She grabbed one of the many weapons Mole had strapped to his person—in this case a compact sub-machine gun.

"No, wait!" Mole yelled reaching for her, but he was too late. Max fired at the glass, careful to aim to the side and away from Alec. Bullets bounced off the clear material, sending crazy ricochets around the room. One hit Mole in his side, cutting straight through the flesh to exit out the back. He fell to the ground, pressing a hand over the wound.

"Damn it, woman, are you crazy?" he yelled up at her.

Max spared him a glance; it was only a flesh wound. She turned her attention back to the clear wall. The bullets had barely even dented it. She slammed the butt of gun against glass several times, but it was no use. She dropped it and sagged against the barrier, spent.

It wasn't fair. They'd been through so much, and now she had to just stand there and watch him drown? She slammed a hand against glass. "No!" she cried in protest.

When she looked up, Alec wasn't looking at her. He was looking at Mole, who'd gotten to his feet, hand still covering his wound. They seemed to be engaged in some sort of silent communication through eye contact only, because Mole nodded. He dug into his pack and pulled out a small putty-like block.

C4.

"What are you doing?" Max asked heatedly. Mole had already moved toward the edge of the window and was shaping the charge.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" Mole answered sarcastically, continuing to work.

"You can't blow it!" Max hissed, tugging on his arm. "The concussion alone could kill him, not to mention the wreckage that could come crashing down and squash him flat!"

"He's _already_ dying!" Mole snapped, yanking his arm from her grasp. "What else do you want me to do?"

Max looked over to Alec. He was trying to swim away from the window, moving his body out of the immediate blast zone, but his movements were even more sluggish. His oxygen-starved brain was beginning to shut down.

"All right. Do it," Max said shakily. Her heart felt like it would pound right out of her chest. "But hurry. I think he's starting to lose consciousness."

Mole rushed connecting the detonator, not bothering with his standard double-check—no time. He set a ten second delay, then turned and grabbed Max's arm, propelling her toward the far side of the room.

"Get down!" he yelled.

He shoved her down against the wall, shielding her body as much as she would let him. It wasn't chivalry but self preservation. Alec would kill him if something happened to Max. Besides, he wouldn't last another day if he ended up in command of TC again.

Alec's eyes slipped closed and his body began to drift.

"Alec," Max breathed, making a move toward him, but Mole grabbed her and pulled her back. The numbers counted down.

Three… Two…

All she could think of was that Alec was dying. He was _dying_.

One.

* * *

Oscar jumped off a small ledge and landed on the slope below, sliding on snow-covered dead leaves down into a shallow gully. He regained his feet at the bottom and ran up the other side, practically crashing into Kazi as he came over the top.

"Think I still got one on my tail," Oscar panted, giving her arm a tug in the opposite direction from which he'd come.

Kazi risked a quick glance behind them. She didn't see anyone, but that didn't mean there wasn't someone there.

They ran. The headed east along the ridge, which was the plan once they had taken out or shaken their pursuers. They'd run into each other eventually if they kept heading east.

Their plan was sound, because it wasn't long until they ran into Dalton. Unfortunately, Dalton had apparently already run into another group of Familiars.

He was in a small clearing, fighting for his life. The X6 had managed to take out one of the Familiars, as evidenced by the crumpled body on the ground behind him. As they ran toward him he knocked the other backwards by hooking her knee with his foot and slamming his palm into her chest, sending the woman crashing down the side of the ridge.

Kazi raised her gun to take aim at the third Familiar, but Oscar grabbed her arm. "Don't waste it," he panted, increasing his speed as much as he could on the rough terrain. "We're not in range."

The two of them ran toward Dalton, desperate to help. They were almost in range when their eyes widened with matching expressions of horror. Both of them saw what Dalton had not—yet another group of Familiars on the far side of the clearing. One of them had a heavy machine gun, which he aimed directly at the combatants. The Familiar fighting Dalton delivered a vicious kick, knocking the X6 backwards and giving the machine-gunner a clear shot. He pulled back the bolt.

"Dalton, look out!" Oscar screamed, raising his own weapon. He wasn't close enough. Dear God, he wasn't close enough.

Dalton's head turned toward the sound of Oscar's voice Oscar saw a split second of shock register before his friend spun around to face the enemy.

He was too late. High-caliber bullets ripped through his adolescent body, throwing him backwards.

"No!" Kazi and Oscar screamed as one.

Finally in range, Kazi emptied her last bullets into the Familiar Dalton had been fighting. The man was dead before he hit the ground. Kazi crashed to her knees beside Dalton as Oscar took position over them, opening his weapon up to full auto and driving the approaching Familiars back under cover. Clip exhausted, he grabbed the fallen Familiar's rifle and fired another round, this time taking care to make his shots count. Another Familiar fell.

"How bad is it? Is he all right?" Oscar yelled over the sound of gunfire. He returned fire, forcing the Familiars back. After a few seconds, he realized Kazi wasn't answering him.

"Kazi?" he called out with worry. Then he did something that would've earned him a month in the Box back at Manticore. He turned his back on the enemy and risked a quick look at his friend.

He froze. It took a moment for his brain to accept what his eyes saw.

Dalton lay on his back, his blue eyes wide and panicked. He had a fistful of Kazi's coat, hanging on tight as his mouth opened and closed, sucking in hitching, gasping breaths. His face was almost as pale as the snow falling around him, making the heavy spattering of freckles on his skin stand out in stark detail.

But freckles didn't come in that color—bright, lurid red.

The space between one heartbeat and the next stretched until it seemed as if it would never come. Oscar was rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but stand there and watch in horror.

Red blossomed on the white snow, spreading out around Dalton's upper body in a bloody halo.

* * *

A/N: All together now… NOOOO! NOT DALTON!

Go ahead…beg me for his life. _Beg_. (Cue evil laughter.)


End file.
